Broken Spirit
by LittleChicago
Summary: Third in the 'Broken' series, Harry must deal with the consequences of 'Wrong Place, Wrong Time', as well as begin to move against the one behind the Black Council...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A big thank you to everyone who has enjoyed and commented on my previous stories. I wouldn't keep writing them if you didn't like them!**

**I'll be the first to admit this chapter is slower than my previous work... but it's building to some good stuff along the way. Please enjoy!**

Broken Spirit

"So," the skull said, "was she hot?"

I looked at the skull. It housed the spirit of intellect I had named Bob years ago. Bob was possibly the most knowledgeable being I had ever come across, mortal or not. He was also sex-obsessed. "Bob," I said, leaning back against my work table, "I just explained that I travelled through time, uncovered the one behind the Black Council, and escaped from a memory-eating vampire, and your only question is whether she was hot or not?"

The flickering little orange lights in his eye sockets looked left, then right, then back at me. I don't know how a skull with no muscles or skin can look confused, but he managed it. "Um… yes?"

I rubbed my eyes. "Fine. For the record, she looked a lot like Ancient Mai."

"Ah, the Senior Council member who hates you."

"Yeah, she's one of them."

Bob perked up. "She does have a certain appeal, Boss."

"I'm sure." I walked around my work table. The sub-basement of my apartment is cramped and chilly, and mostly full of table. The table was pretty big - I had to disassemble it, carry it down piece by piece, and rebuild it down there. Shelving and other tables filled most of the rest of the space, and it was cluttered with so much random crap I couldn't list it all if I tried.

I found a stool on the other side of the main table, which was currently half-occupied with a giant pewter model of downtown Chicago, and took a seat. "What about the other stuff I told you? What about Titania?"

"Seems pretty clear to me. You should become an astronaut."

"I'm sorry?"

"For many things, I'm sure. Point is, you should get off Earth soon. Knowing a Faerie Queen is trying to kill you is tantamount to being dead already."

"Unless a friendly wizard offers you protection?" I smiled innocently at him.

Bob laughed; it was nervous, and a three dollar bill was more genuine. "Right. You said it, Harry." Bob had done something to anger the Winter Queen, Mab, a long time ago. He'd never told me what, and I hadn't ordered him to tell me. Yet.

"Maybe I could just kill her," I mused out loud.

Bob took on his lecturer's voice. "One does not 'just kill' a Faerie Queen."

"I've done it before."

"Technically, you killed the Summer _Lady_, the Queen _to_ _Be_, not the Summer Queen_ Who Is_. Not nearly so powerful. Plus, you had a lot of help. And she was totally bonkers."

"True, I did have that in my favour. But what if Titania is also crazy?"

"You killed her daughter. Crazy or not, she'd hate you. And if she saw you coming, I doubt you'd get close enough to do anything."

"Alright, fine. Let's proceed under the assumption that she's sane. Why? Why would she want to destroy the White Council?"

"The White Council is the only organization standing between you mortals and all supernatural beings."

"So, with it gone, she's free to do whatever she wants to on Earth."

"Her or her allies, like the vampires. Except that doing so would throw the whole Summer/Winter balance out of whack."

"Right, which brings us back to her possibly being crazy." My phone rang before Bob could respond. "Keep thinking about it," I said, and headed up the ladder. "This might be good news about Molly."

With a whispered word, all the candles in my lab extinguished. I came up into my apartment proper and grabbed the old rotary phone on the fourth ring. "Dresden."

"Warden Dresden," the voice said, with a burst of static.

"Captain Luccio," I said, with just a hint of playfulness. Ah, the joys of your boss also being your ex-girlfriend.

She dropped the formality quickly. "How are you, Harry?"

"Alive. I know there's been some doubt, recently, but Carlos was here yesterday. It's really me."

"I know. I believe you. After all, who would want to pretend to be you?"

"That hurts, Sta - Captain." I'd almost called her Stacey. She'd hated it when we were dating. But I could get away with it, then.

There was a short, awkward pause from her end. Then, again with static, she continued, "I'm afraid I don't have good news for you, Harry."

I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed, silently. "Please tell me you're kidding, Ana."

"I'm sorry, Harry. This is why I don't agree with apprentices being on probation. The rule is old, archaic. But if she fails the exams, it will be assumed she'll never learn control of her magic and be summarily executed as a danger."

"But she's only being forced to take them because everyone thought I was dead! I've been officially alive again for two days!" The static increased with my blood pressure. After a moment, it died down again.

"I know, Harry, but the circumstances are unusual. We haven't had an apprentice on probation whose master died since the American Civil War. And having the master suddenly return is unprecedented. It was deferred to the Senior Council to be voted on, in camera."

"Who voted?"

"The Merlin, Ancient Mai, and Wizard Listens-to-Wind."

"Let me guess; Molly lost two-to-one."

She sighed. "Yes." The Merlin was a consummate politician, and always played the stronger side. Joseph Listens-to-Wind, a.k.a. Injun Joe, I could generally count as a friend. "I can offer you one point of comfort: She'll being sitting her exams with me."

"You're her examiner?"

"No. I'll just be one of three. Normally, I could have done it alone, but with her history, and recent events…" she trailed off. Molly had been put on probation for using some destructive, albeit well-intentioned mental manipulation. Ana had recently been the target of the same thing, albeit from another source. "At least she'll have one familiar face."

"Ow!"

"Harry?! Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I said. "I just punched the wall." I shook out my hand. "This is bullshit, Captain. And I hope that goes on the record."

"Duly noted. The examination will be on Halloween."

My birthday. Hell's bells, what a present. "So I've got a little under a month to whip the kid into shape?" Kid. Molly was somewhere in her early twenties. But I'd known her since she was a tween. She'd always be a kid.

"Yes. You have a month."

I let my anger control me. For a count of five. Then I sucked it up. Being angry wasn't going to help Molly. "Thanks for trying, Ana."

"Of course, Harry. Is she there?"

"She's been here for two weeks. And she's been seriously cramming since I got back. She needed a break, so she's walking Mouse."

There was a short silence. I found myself not quite ready to hang up. "So, ah… how goes the fight?"

"I'm answering the phones, Harry. You probably know as much as I do." There was no anger in her voice. Just resignation. In a way, it was worse to hear that.

"So, who's in charge? Carlos said he couldn't tell me anything, in case I turned out to be an evil construct, or something."

"Warden Steiger. He's from Johannesburg."

"Is he any good?"

"He's been placed in charge, Harry."

"Yeah, but is he any good?"

She sighed again. "He has my full confidence. He might not have been my first choice, but he would have made the short list."

"Good enough. Should I expect a call-up?"

"I don't know. And it's out of my hands. I'm still technically the Captain, but for all intents and purposes, that's just a title, now. My role was scaled back after the body-switching incident, but now… I no longer even make decisions alone."

There was that resigned sadness again. Hearing it hurt. Ana had been manipulated into a relationship with me, but I'd gone in with both eyes open. I still cared about her.

"I'm sorry, Ana."

"So am I."

"Thank you. For getting back to me so quickly."

"Of course. I should go."

"Right. Goodbye."

We hung up, and I sat down, rubbing my eyes again. I hadn't slept much in the last two days. Since pulling a Marty McFly, I'd been trying to get my life sorted out. Everyone, my friends and enemies, had thought me dead. Because I'd been gone for a few weeks. A bit of an over-reaction, I think.

On the other hand, there had been no way of tracking me, because I'd been stuck I the past. Then, coming home, my teacher and I had overshot our destination. I literally had not existed for more than three weeks. And of course, I couldn't tell anyone where I'd been, because time travel is expressly forbidden by the White Council.

The results had been unforeseen, to say the least. Three things had happened; first, Molly, as my apprentice, had been my responsibility. With me gone, she either had to step up as her own wizard, or die like me.

I believe in covering my ass. Hoping that I could iron out the situation, but knowing it wasn't likely, I got Molly started on intensive training while I was making phone calls.

She was going to be exhausted for the next few weeks. So was I.

The second strange consequence had been a sudden turn in the Council's war with the Vampire Courts. Of the four courts, the Black Court pretty much didn't exist anymore. The White Court was controlled by someone I had a working relationship with. The Red Court had been licking its wounds. And the Jade Court hadn't entered the war at all.

Then I vanished, and things changed. The Jade Court, it seemed, had stayed out because of little ol' me. They eat the memories of their victims, but they can't feed on me; I have a little angelic protection. Their lack of understanding of my immunity had kept them cautious. With me gone, they'd thrown in.

The third thing was a trio of trolls stalking through town, looking for me.

I picked the phone up again to talk to the other short blonde in my life. Sgt. Karrin Murphy answered the phone on the second ring. "Murphy."

"Hey, Murph. It's me."

She immediately started talking a little too loudly. She was being watched. "Yes, hello. Glad you called. I was hoping to talk to you."

"Lunch?"

"Sounds good. Maybe on neutral territory?" Murphy-speak for McAnally's Pub.

"I'll be there at twelve."

"Perfect." She hung up on me. Murphy trying not to attract notice was nothing new, and sadly, neither was her avoiding my name. The Special Investigations unit knew me, liked me, and brought me in whenever they could. But someone higher up didn't like any of those facts, and wouldn't let me in the door. I was _persona non grata_ as far as the regular civil services were concerned.

My senses tingled a little; There was someone at my door, but not a hostile someone. I waited. After a moment, the door popped open, a little stiff but not as bad as it had once been, and my dog and apprentice came through it.

I'd once considered putting in a dog door for Mouse, but it would have ended up bigger than my own, and I just didn't want to go to the effort.

Mouse looked worried. I don't know how. He took one look at me, and turned back to Molly, as she closed the door. She turned around and took off her jacket, and to me she looked like hell. Her hair was purple, and her eyes had circles under them that almost matched. Under her jacket, her tank top was black and rumpled. Her skirt was on sideways, and for once, it wasn't a fashion statement. She took three tries to get her boots off.

"Heya, kid."

"Hey, Harry." She looked like she wanted to collapse. But she didn't. Tired or not, she was her parents' daughter. "Do we have any Pepsi?"

I raised an eyebrow.

She raised her hands in mock surrender. "You're right. Silly question." Her voice was weak. She moved to the kitchen and dug a pair of Cokes out of the old icebox. I gave her a half smile that she almost returned. We opened them together and drank. "It's bright outside."

"Too bright?"

"Just haven't seen the sun in two days."

"Yeah. Rough weekend," I said.

"Wait, it's Sunday, isn't it?" She finally showed some life, her eyes popping open. She looked at the clock on the mantle. "Oh, crap!" She guzzled and moved to the door.

"What? What did I miss?"

"It's Sunday morning, Harry!"

"So?"

"I'm going to mass with my family."

"You're… you still go to church?"

She paused while putting her shoes back on. "I might be a witch, but I'm still Catholic."

"No wonder you always look guilty." I glanced at the clock myself. "You're going to be late."

She grabbed the door. "My father would say, 'Better late than never.'"

"Yeah, but your mother would say, 'Why are you late?'"

"Well… true."

I sighed. "Ah, hell. I've almost forgotten what the sun looks like, too." She smiled at me, and it took some of the strain off her face. I grabbed my leather duster, and made sure the car keys were in a pocket, then we headed outside.

*****

I drove quickly, but not crazy-fast. The Sunday drivers weren't out in force. Besides, autumn had finally arrived, and the whole city was covered in trees of every shade on the warm side of the rainbow. I tried to enjoy the view. It also let me look somewhere other than Molly, who was straightening her skirt.

I drove with the window open a crack. The cool air kept us both awake.

The Carpenter's Church, St. Mary of the Angels, is easy to find. It takes up a whole city block and does it with style. An old, beautiful building, it also has a nice big parking lot. Though, I'll admit, I'd never tried to park there during mass. I inched up to the door, dodging the dawdling churchies.

Molly jumped out once I stopped, then poked her head back in. "You want to come in?"

Any time I came near a Carpenter at a church, they always invited me. Politely, never pushing, never begging. They always left the decision to me, and it's one of the reasons I respect them. "God and I have an understanding, Molly. I stay out of his way, he stays out of mine."

"If you say so. I only ask because my parents said they wanted to talk to you."

Oh, right. They needed to ask if I was going to let their daughter die. Call me superficial, but I think it's the sort of thing a friendship might ride on.

I waffled a moment, but before I could say anything, Molly looked up, behind me. Her face lit up. "Mama!"

Oh, boy. I turned around slowly. Molly jogged up to a stern-looking blonde woman who was leading a young boy by the hand. At seven years old, Harry Carpenter had his father's colouring and his mother's bearing. He was also tall for a 2nd grader. I pitied anyone who made fun of his name.

'Cause, you know. Harry's an easy name to make fun of.

Man, I have childhood issues.

Charity's face softened considerably when Molly hugged her. Barely an inch taller than her daughter, and barely half a foot shorter than I, Charity also had the build of a long distance runner. I'd seen her in action. Though we got along much better these days, I knew she could kick my ass if she wanted to.

"Molly, it feels like it's been forever. You look tired. Is he riding you too hard? Is he letting you sleep?"

I tried not to think sexy thoughts.

Failed.

"Of course he is. I'm riding myself. I mean… you know what I mean. I'm going to pass these tests, and it'll all be over. It's no different than Daniel cramming at college. Hey, Brat."

Little Harry grinned up at his big sister.

I admired the kid's chutzpah. Charity looked sceptical, but then, she usually did. I could see the worry on her face as she gazed at her daughter, but to her credit she said nothing, just nodded.

Then she looked at me. "Harry."

_Oh boy. This is going to suck_.

_Harry_, a voice in the back of my head said, _you have been putting this off since you learned about the situation. You have to talk to her parents_.

I was forced to admit the voice was right.

I got out of the _Blue Beetle _leaving my staff behind. Church folk and magic folk don't mesh well. "Charity. It's… good to see you."

"Uncle Harry!" Little Harry squealed. He threw himself into my left leg and I patted him on the head.

"Been a while, Kiddo." I reached down and lifted him up. He was a fair bit heavier than I remembered. "Where's everybody else?"

"Daniel's not coming back from school until Thanksgiving. Matthew is at a friend's birthday. Alicia and Amanda are already inside, holding seats. Hope is - "

"Right here!" The little girl's voice came from her father's shoulders. And they were broad shoulders.

Michael Carpenter was the best man I had ever known. A loving father, an excellent friend, and a fierce warrior. He was also a damn fine carpenter, if you can believe that.

He limped forward, favouring one leg while the other stiffly followed. Hope held her father's cane in one hand, and Michael's big hands held her gently at the shoulders. His smile was almost as wide as hers. "Harry!" he boomed. "Molly, I need a little help."

One sister reached up for the other. "Come on, Hobbit. Time to use your own big, hairy feet."

"My feet are not hairy! They're pretty!"

"Molly," I said, "could you?" I put my namesake down, and he offered his biggest sister his hand. I jerked my head at her parents.

"Sure," she said quietly, nodding.

Michael had reclaimed his cane, and now leaned against it, eyeing me as his children walked away. Charity, likewise, was staring at me, arms crossed.

I decided to jump right in. "Remember eight years ago? That fun-filled night we had with vampires and werewolves?"

He nodded. "You've just come due to talk about it."

"Well, it ties in with Molly's situation."

"What _is_ her situation?" Charity asked, I like to think more harshly than she intended. "She won't tell us what the consequences are if she fails."

I hesitated. Charity and Michael were more than protective of their kids. They would fight the world for them… and on a good day, they'd win. Luckily, I didn't have to answer.

"There you are!" We all turned to see Father Frank Forthill, the senior priest of St. Mary's, standing at the door in full green-and-white regalia and his usual friendly smile. "I was beginning to wonder. Mr. Dresden, a pleasant surprise. Joining us today?"

Oh, jeez. Well, I'm a guy who doesn't like to ignore signs, and they were all pointing me inside. I glanced around, waiting to see if anyone else was going to save me from saying something, but Michael and Charity just looked at me. So, I nodded. "Uh, yeah, I guess I am." The voice at the back of my mind took a virtual deep breath.

"Wonderful," the old priest said. "Don't worry about the car; no one will tow it unless I ask them to." We followed him inside. He stopped in the vestibule, and waved us forward. "The girls are up near the front, he whispered."

I followed the Carpenters up the nave, to a pew just a couple rows back from the front, on the left side of the church. Though, I guess from God's perspective, we'd be at his right hand. Something told me the family always managed to sit close to this spot. When Alicia saw me, she grinned and waved. She somehow manoeuvred herself into standing next to me. I gave her a friendly tap on the shoulder, and she let out little sigh.

I had time enough to think I had to stop rescuing women who were illegally young, then mass began. I won't bore you with the details. There was a lot of standing, kneeling and singing, which as a favour to the Chicago Catholics, I did not join. After an hour, it was over, and the seven hundred or so people inside seemed to leave in high spirits.

As they left, I turned to Michael and Charity again. "We need to talk. In private."

Michael nodded and led us all towards the back of the church, and down a corridor. The corridor was familiar; I had soulgazed Molly here. I had seen her potential futures. I had seen how much power she had, and how much darkness was inside her. I'd worked for four years to steer her away from that.

There was a room a the back of St. Mary's that Michael and I had used several times when trying to recover from or hide from… things. We went there now.

Michael sat in one of the chairs, one leg jutting out stiffly. Hope climbed into his lap. Charity stood next to Molly, one hand absently on her shoulder. Alicia and Amanda pulled up to a table on boxes. I sat on another chair, looked at my hands and wondered where to begin.

_If I may, Harry_, the voice in my head said, _it may not be your place to say anything._

_What do you mean?_

_They may count you as family, but you are not Molly's parent._

I almost grimaced. _You're right_.

Lash, the friendly Fallen Angel who was renting out my extra head-space went quiet again.

"It's not really my place to say much, here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Charity asked. Molly gave me a guilty look.

"Exactly what it sounds like." I turned to Molly. "As far as the magical world is concerned, you're my responsibility, Molly. But they're not my parents. You're an adult. It's your place to decide what gets said and what doesn't."

She took a deep breath as most of her family looked at her. After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at her mother. "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't want to scare you."

Charity's mouth dropped open as realisation dawned. "No. No, I am not going through this again." She raised a very scary-looking finger in my direction. "Do you hear me? I am not letting someone threaten my daughter again! I thought this was over!"

"Charity." Michael didn't raise his voice, but his wife stopped talking. "Harry?"

"Normally," I said, "when an apprentice takes their exams, there are two components: power, and control. If they show good control but little power, they are not invited into the White Council. If they show power but no control, they are put under the Doom of Damocles until that changes, and are re-tested every year. But in Molly's case, given what happened before, and the fact she's already on probation, if she doesn't show control now, it'll be assumed that she never will."

The consequence of that spread across his face slowly.

"How long does she have?" Charity whispered. She grabbed Molly's hand without looking.

"We've got until Halloween to prepare. And she is going to be ready."

"She had better be," Charity said, very quietly. Her eldest daughter was weeping. The younger children didn't appear to quite understand, and I was grateful for that.

Michael stood, awkwardly, letting Hope take his seat. He hobbled over to me, and offered his hand. I stood and took it. "I have every faith that you will give her all the skills she needs. But," he said, pulling me in close, and lowering his voice, "if anyone were to raise a hand against my daughter, I would stand in front of her."

"I know you would. And I like to think you know I would, too."

He gave me a fierce smile and slapped my on the arm.

As my vision cleared, I saw Father Forthill had joined us, back to wearing his simple black suit and white collar. "Oh, my. Did I walk in on a hugging moment?"

"Wait," Charity said suddenly, turning to me. "This is happening because you disappeared. Where did you go?"

Oh, boy. I had planned to tell Michael this part alone. But Charity had asked, and as Molly's mother, she had every right to know. And the way my life goes, Molly was going to find out, sooner or later. What the hell. If I couldn't trust Michael and his family, who could I trust? The only other person I'd told was Murphy, and she had other fish to fry at the moment.

"Well, that brings me to the other thing I wanted to talk about. Everything I'm about to say cannot leave the room. I'm especially looking at you, Molly, since we move in the same circle." I obviously had their attention. She even stopped her tears. "Now, do any of you believe in time travel?"

*****

As story-telling skills go, mine have refined a lot over the years. Everyone pulled up a seat. I couldn't stop all the interruptions, but I got most of tale out in under ten minutes. Molly was surprised when I said I had gone back in time. When she pointed out that it was against the Laws, Charity got angry. And cold. Very, very cold. "My daughter is being persecuted, but you get away with it?"

So, I had to explain about the Blackstaff. "Everyone is held to the Laws, with exactly one exception. The Blackstaff is permitted to break them, but only in the direst of circumstances, and only to protect others. Doesn't mean it's right, and I took a long time to even speak to him again after I found out. But I've seen that it's necessary, sometimes. To be frank, that's one reason among many that I stood up for Molly 4 years ago."

Molly's mouth hung open, and I knew I was going to get questions later. Good. She was growing up.

Charity quietly stewed for a moment, and I swear the little room got colder. Then Forthill spoke up. "The Bible has a few examples of people stepping forward to do what no one else can, even when it was frowned upon."

"Such as?" Charity demanded.

"Jesus." To the shocked silence that followed, he continued, "Removing the money-changers from the Temple. Others were afraid of instigating violence in God's house, but He took it upon Himself to throw them out, for they were the greater sinners."

"The lesser of two evils," Michael said thoughtfully. "You needed to know who has been moving against the Council." His face went still and he gently squeezed Hope and Harry. "Who has been attacking innocents."

"Exactly." I continued my story, getting to the point where Michael and I entered the Nevernever in pursuit of Sumi Kitoro, the Jade Court vampire, pausing long enough to say, "It goes high. This Black Council has members all over the place: vampires in all four Courts; at least two or three Denarians; at least one traitor on the White Council; a few uber-powerful necromancers; and some Fae."

Forthill perked up. "The Fae?"

I nodded. "That's what I found out. When Michael and I were in the Nevernever, I overheard a meeting between the vampire we chased and the Summer Lady. She basically said that her mother, the Summer Queen, is the mastermind behind the Black Council."

Michael bowed his head, thinking. Molly covered her mouth, eyes wide. Curiously, Forthill went pale and still. "Father? You okay?"

"I… yes." He breathed out. "It's just… the Church has noted, in recent years, that the activities of the Denarians have become much more… organised. Particularly the ones who follow Imariel. If she has partnered with one of the most powerful beings in existence… we could be in trouble."

I nodded. "The Faerie Queens are on the same level as the average archangel."

"I find that hard to believe," Charity said.

"Oh, in this reality, they have their limits. But the Nevernever is another plane of existence. You saw Arctis Tor, Charity. Mab didn't hire contractors. She willed that place into existence. Might have had some trolls do the heavy lifting, but it was mostly her. And the land, air and life within the realm of Winter obeys her will. It's a lot of power.

"Titania is her equivalent in Summer. She rules from Equius Val, and commands things just as bad as the trolls and fetches."

Charity bowed her head and silently crossed herself. Molly crossed her arms and didn't look at anybody. Arctis Tor had been a bad time, made easier by the fact that the Denarians, the Fallen Angels, had attacked Mab before we got there, pumping out Hellfire and destroying anything and everything in their path. The carnage had been remarkable, but not absolute, and we'd barely found Molly and escaped with our lives. I thought I heard a murmur from Lash.

_I know_, I thought back. _I'm coming to it. After._

The best thing about Michael is that he's so direct and honest. That being said, the main problem with Michael is that he's so direct and honest. He can't help but inspire those qualities in others, including certain professional wizards. As with the time travel bit, I'd only told Karrin Murphy that Lash was again bouncing around in my cerebral cortex. She'd taken it remarkably well, only making one crack about how I can't resist a damsel in distress.

"Anyway," I continued, "I figured you had a right to know. The unintended side effect of my trip was the return date. I overshot the day I left, meaning I literally didn't exist, and couldn't be found, magically or otherwise. The consequences of _that_, I've spent the last two days trying to undo. Unfortunately, I can't." I paused, waiting for the awkward silence to end. It didn't, so I finished, weakly, "I'm sorry."

"You did what you thought was right," Charity said a century later. Mentally, I let go of a breath I'd been holding.

I saw Michael nod. "You had no control over what happened here while you were gone, Harry. We can't blame you for Molly's predicament. However, I know we can count on you to get her out of it."

I half-smiled, and looked at Molly. "You can count on both of us," I said.

She gave me the other half of the smile, and nodded.

"Why don't you report back after lunch, Grasshopper?"

"Really?"

"Sure. I'm getting sick of the sight of you, anyway."

She jumped out of her chair and hugged me. "Thanks, Teach."

A few moments later, we were all walking back into the church proper, the children clinging to their mother (though Alicia kept glancing back) and Forthill silently keeping Michael and me company behind them.

"So," Michael said in a low voice, "something else is bothering you. What is it?"

I came right out with it. "Lasciel's shadow has returned."

Forthill gave me a sharp look, coming out of his reverie, but Michael just nodded without looking at me. "And?"

"I'm not driving her away. She's no longer asking me to take up the coin."

"How long since she returned?"

"If I add it all up, about four days."

He shook his head. "Four days without suggesting the coin? Without offering power?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't prove much, Harry. She has millennia of experience manipulating people."

I smiled at him as we walked through the front doors into the sunshine. As promised, the Beetle was still where I'd left it, in everyone's way. "People have the ability to change, Michael."

"Yes, _people_, Harry. Not immortal beings."

I opened the car door and bounced my eyebrows up and down. "Ah, come on. Have a little faith."

He just shook his head again, Father Forthill looking worried beside him. "I will be keeping an eye on you, Harry."

I nodded. "I wouldn't expect any less."

As I pulled out of the lot, I saw Michael looking happily at his family. I saw Molly and Charity, both looking tired. And I saw Alicia looking at me.

It creeped me out, a little. I mean, I just went to her 14th birthday a couple months ago. Crap. I went through this with Molly, too, and it turned out awkwardly, to say the least. I'm starting to feel like a very dirty, old man.

Maybe I just need to spend less time with children.

The drive out to Mac's wasn't a lonely one. Lash took the opportunity to project an image of herself into my passenger seat. She appeared as a pretty woman in her late twenties or early thirties, wearing a very flattering toga, and bright red hair.

"Settled on red, have you?"

"It seems to be the most eye-catching."

"I'll give you that. So, what's up?"

"I wanted to thank you. For standing up to Michael for me."

"It wasn't really standing up. I just told him I wasn't kicking you out."

"Which is more than you would have done before. And more than any previous host I had would have done."

"Michael isn't the type of guy you convince of things. He has to come around to it himself." She appeared to think for a moment, then nodded and vanished.

I pulled into Mac's a minute later. Located in the sunken bottom of an older office building, it's a cool, small, familiar tavern, and one of the only places I've ever seen that's been accorded neutral territory rights by the signatories of the Unseelie Accords, the major multi-lateral peace agreement running through the supernatural world. The steak and beer are made off-site, somewhere. Heaven, I think.

Murphy was waiting in the parking lot, sitting in her Saturn. Bummer. I wouldn't get to go inside, and I was hungry. Hungry Harry, cranky Harry. There was a large black man in the passenger seat. He appeared to be asleep, but experience told me her was faking.

I squeezed the Beetle into a parking spot between a wall and a rusty piece of Detroit iron, and headed over to Murph's Saturn. She got out, wearing a Cubs jacket and jeans, and brought a brown paper bag with her. She had her good-cop face on, which meant she was in a good mood, but still all-business.

"Hi, Harry."

"Hey, Murph. How's Rawlins?"

"He's just fine, thank you," the old cop's voice came out of Murphy's car. He still hadn't opened his eyes. "You know, I suggested _lunch_. Not standing around _near_ lunch. Not _approaching_ lunch. Not passing _by_ lunch, but - "

She thrust the bag at me, and I saw a steak sandwich inside.

" – _actual_ lunch." I grabbed the bag and took a whiff of the manna inside. "Oh, you are a saint, Karrin." I started to eat.

"Shut up."

"Wait. Mac doesn't do take-out."

She lifted an eyebrow.

"That's true. He _does_ like you."

"Again, shut up. I'm being nice because we're in a hurry."

"Oh?" I said around a mouthful.

"We have a lead on those trolls."

I swallowed. "I'm coming."

She sighed. "You can't."

"The hell I can't, Murph. They were looking for _me_. And three cops got hurt."

"Yeah. Three cops got hurt. Which is why you can't come."

"What do you – oh, godammit. Politics?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry, Harry. But when cops get hurt, other cops get angry. SI is the red-headed step-child, but we're still part of the family. There are 20 additional officers and detectives on this case. Normals. Including a few who would take note if you came along."

I was quiet for a minute, thinking. I came up with nothing useful. "That sucks ass, Murph."

"Tell me about it. One troll, maybe two, I'm not worried about. Four, and I start to hope you'll come along." She grinned. "But, maybe it's better this way. No chance of you trying to go all chauvinistic on me, save my life or something stupid like that."

"I would never!"

She punched me lightly on the arm. "It goes down in twenty minutes. I have to go."

"Call me the instant it's over."

"Of course."

She got back in her car and drove off, Rawlins opening his eyes just long enough to give me a thumbs up. He's a good cop, and there are few people I'd trust to watch Murph's back more. I silently hoped the police didn't find the trolls at all, but SI was too good at what it did. So, I hoped instead they'd all come out of it alright.

I decided to finish my lunch inside, maybe grab a beer to go with the steak. As I was walking across the lot, another car pulled in and rolled up beside me, a nice big town car.

It stopped, and after a glance, I kept walking. It pulled up beside me again. I kept walking, trying to keep a smile off my face. The car pulled up again just as I was about to descend the steps into Mac's.

I heard a powered window rolling down. "Very cute, Dresden."

I turned around. "Oh, hello, John. I didn't see you there."

Gentleman Johnny Marcone owned most of Chicago, and it annoyed the hell out of me. The most polite gangster you'd ever meet, he was also quite good at keeping the collateral damage from crime at a minimum; in many ways, he was the lesser of all potential evils. I understood him and his motives, if nothing else. Didn't mean I liked him.

He'd helped me out of a scrape or two, though, and I'd given him a few things he wanted, too… including official standing as an independent Baron and signatory of the Unseelie Accords.

He was also a smooth-talking, smarmy bastard who always got what he wanted, unless I was involved. Which is why it always surprised the hell out of me when he sought me out. Maybe he just liked a challenge.

His faded green eyes twinkled a little as he said, "I was wondering if we could speak for a moment, Dresden."

"Actually, John," I said, knowing he hated it, "I was about to enjoy my lunch." I rustled the bag.

"Perfect. I'll join you."

Before I could think of something witty to say, the front door of the car opened and a very large man with very short red hair and a very serious expression got out. "Hendricks," I said with a nod. He nodded curtly back and opened Marcone's door.

Marcone stepped out, buttoning his very expensive suit jacket as he came, a vague smile on his face and a perennial boater's tan sunk into his skin. "My treat?" he suggested.

"Well, now I can't say no." I turned and headed down the stairs, not waiting for him. I stuffed my half-eaten sandwich in a deep pocket. He followed me in, weaving among the carved pillars and occupied, mismatched tables, right up to the bar. Hendricks stood off to the side, back to a wall. Mac, possibly the world's greatest cook, was standing behind the bar, apron spotless, arms crossed and eyes sharp.

"The usual, please," Marcone said. "Well, make it two."

Mac nodded and set work slicing bread and meat. "Usual? I've never seen you in here before, John."

"That's because I just discovered the place, Dresden. About, oh, a month ago? Quite the hidden gem."

I gave him a sidelong glance. "A month, you say?"

"Yes, curious timing, I know." Mac set a pair of bottles down, the caps already popped off. Mac's ale is the only thing in the world greater than his steak. If only he'd chill it.

Marcone made a show of spreading out a napkin on his lap.

"You obviously know more than you're letting on, John. Maybe we should just skip to the point."

"In a moment, Dresden. I've been looking forward this all morning."

"I already have my lunch," I said, and showed him the bag again, as I stood to leave.

"Mab's not the one making problems for you, is she?"

It was a simple question, with many possible reasons for being asked, given my history with the Winter Queen. But with Marcone's timing, and his standing among the supernatural forces, it was obvious he was getting at something relevant to my current situation. The jerk.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Oh, there have been some rumblings. Among the other signatories. Some questions raised as to the Winter Queen's sanity. But you already know that, don't you?"

I sat back down, never taking my eyes off the crime boss. "What do you know, Marcone?"

Mac set our plates down. I took a half-second's happiness from the fact that he put down mine first.

Marcone picked up his sandwich while I waited. He had my attention, and he knew it. So, he drew it out. I didn't give him the satisfaction of begging or demanding while he took a bite. I drank my beer instead.

He swallowed and wiped his mouth, then spoke again. "I've had some minor business dealings with the Winter Queen in the last year. Nothing you need be worried about, of course. I have also had dealings with a Mr. Ferro, face-to-face."

"Ferrovax is a dragon."

"Oh, I know. But he was still willing to talk to me, in person, so to speak. And I have also met Mab, again, in person. I have to admit, she is one magnificent creature."

He took another bite, and I took another swig, waiting for him to get to the point. "I'm getting bored, John. I have other places to be today."

Again, he wiped his mouth with his napkin, dare I say, daintily? Well, I would dare, but didn't want to piss him off before he told me something important.

"I've met several other signatories, again, in person. But there is one party to the Accords I have yet to meet, despite my best efforts." He turned to me now, and I saw steel in his eyes. "The Summer Queen. Titania."

I tried to keep all emotion off my face. If he knew anything, I needed to know it, too. "Won't return your calls, huh?"

He continued as if I hadn't spoken. "If there is one thing I've learned in all my years of business, Dresden, it's that when a person doesn't want to meet face-to-face, it's because they're hiding something. Something they know you'll figure out very easily."

The last thing I needed was for Marcone to get involved in faerie politics. "Don't take it too personally, John. She's the only Queen I've never met, either. From what I hear, she doesn't like to meet anyone outside her Court."

"Precisely, Dresden. I can appreciate being selective, picky, even. But to turn down all opportunities is bad business."

"Sorry, Commodore Perry, that port is closed. Titania isn't big on outsiders. Hell, it took her several years to warm up to Lily."

"Yes, the Summer Lady. A _mortal_ Summer Lady. Installed when _you_ killed the previous one."

My voice went cold and quiet. "Aurora was insane."

"I know. Everyone knows. Yet, some of the signatories blame you for driving Titania to solitude. Not me, of course. I know why you did what you did. But now, I wonder…" He was quiet for a moment, then took another bite. "You see, as the only mortal signatory to the Accords, I take a different view of things than most. A shorter-term view, perhaps. I don't have a thousand years of memories to refer to. I only have what's right in front of me. And what I see now, today, is a Faerie Queen with a chip on her shoulder and a grudge against you."

He washed down the last of his sandwich. "Excellent. Well, Dresden, I just thought you should know. You're not the only one with reason to worry about the Summer Queen. I don't think any of the other signatories have the same suspicions I do, but given enough time, who knows what conclusions they might come to."

Suddenly, I got it: The son of a bitch was trying to get me to give up what _I_ knew. All he had was his suspicions.

I smiled and stood. "Well, thanks for the warning, John. I appreciate it, but I don't need your patronage."

Then I grabbed the sandwich and left.

On the way to the _Beetle_, Lash appeared again, walking along side me. "What are you going to do, Harry?"

"Head home, leave instructions for Molly, then make a phone call."

"To who?" I got in the car, and she was already inside.

"The Summer Lady. I need to talk to Lily."


	2. Chapter 2

The drive home was quick, probably because I was distracted. Coming in, I let Mister the cat out, absently rubbed Mouse's head, and grabbed a pad of paper. I wrote:

_ Molly, I have to get to a meeting. _

_ Practice your fire spell. _

_ I want heat __and__ light next time!_

Then I grabbed up the old rolodex under the phone's end table and flipped through until I found the number for Fix, the Summer Knight.

He answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hi, Fix? It's Harry Dresden."

"Harry? Wow, it's been a while." He seemed a touch uncertain. Probably because the last time we'd seen each other, there had been guns involved. "How are you?"

"Been worse, I guess. Keeping busy. Yourself?"

"Uh, great, actually. Life's going well."

"Good to hear. Listen, I know this is out of the blue, but - "

"But, you need to speak to me? Or Lily? Or both?"

I smiled. "Both would be good."

"Well, you're in luck. She's actually here in town right now, for a little while longer."

"That's damn good timing. Would I be imposing if I dropped by?"

"No, not at all. What?" There was some murmuring off the phone. "Actually, how about if we meet you half way? It'll be faster."

"Sounds fine. Where?"

"Wrigley? West gate?"

"I'll be waiting for you."

"Oh really? We travel pretty fast, Harry."

I smiled, poked open the hidden drawer in the end table, and pulled out a little leather pouch on a lanyard. "Oh, so do I."

The Black Hall is one of the best kept secrets in the world. Or worlds. It's a passage through the Nevernever, the world just behind the veil, the lands of Faeries and monsters. It's hidden away, though. The Queens, who normally control everything in their domains, can't touch it. It's also – and this is the coolest part – isolated from the passage of time.

The only catch is finding a way in. The door has to be a crossroads; a point of activity, where people are coming and going all the time. The closest one to my house is a corner store five minutes up the road.

The _Beetle_ and I pulled up in front. I hopped out, bringing my staff and the little pouch with me. The pouch contained the dusty remains of the Key to the Black Hall. I stepped up to the door, concentrated on the image of the Black Hall in my mind… and winced as someone opened it in my face.

I stepped back and let the teenager walk by with his Coke bottle and surly expression, and waited for the door to swing shut again. Then, I marshalled my thoughts, gripped the handle, pulled it open and stepped into the void beyond.

The silence is the first thing you notice. We, as people in the modern age, are so inundated with background noise we don't even notice it all. The closest we can come to blocking it out is a trip to the mountains, or maybe a sensory deprivation chamber. All the sound, just… off. No movement, no wind, no static, no horns, no voices. No humming electricity, no buzzing insects. Nothing.

The next thing you notice is the doors. A lot of them. The Black Hall literally goes on forever, linking to every crossroads in the world, through a door. Every door has a window, showing the frozen life on the other side. It's like the world's strangest art gallery, that way. The Hall itself was made of worn, obsidian rock.

I started walking, looking through the windows, hoping that I wasn't drifting too far away from Chicago, metaphysically speaking.

I'll skip the boring part. I walked for a long time, before I looked out a window and saw North Clark Street. I opened the door, revealing an inky black rectangle, then took a breath and stepped through.

Wow. So much noise. I turned around, but the door was already swinging shut. The door itself was an entrance to Wrigley Field. A sporting stadium would be a crossroads. Over the years, it's seen so many people come and go, I doubt a house built here could ever maintain a stable threshold.

This being autumn, the Cubs obviously weren't playing. I leaned against the door and waited for my Fae friends.

They arrived not two minutes later, stepping out of a solid brick wall across the street. They are a sight to behold.

Lily is simply beautiful. Her hair is pure white, but it has a softness to it that makes you think of sunshine. Her skin is light but healthy, and her eyes can hold you captive. She's about 5-foot-4, but draws your eye like an Amazon. She was wearing sandals and a simple, bright green dress that seemed to catch light and throw it back, stronger.

Fix, when I met him, was a scrawny, short, nervous fellow. These days, by the blessings of Faerie magic, he was a shade under six foot, and powerfully built. Carries himself well, too. He wore leather boots, jeans, and a button-down that matched Lily's dress, with the sleeves rolled up. He also had a sword slung across his back.

As the Summer Knight, that was his badge of office. I just hoped a cop didn't pay any attention. The power of the Summer Court, as with the Winter Court, was immense, and the Knights and Ladies held the least of it. But either of them could kick my ass in a fair fight.

Fix offered his hand, politely, to help Lily out of the solid wall, which she gracefully accepted, and floated down a few inches to the ground. And I mean _literally_ floated. Then they looked across the street, and I gave them a wave. They both froze, then glanced at each other. Lily smiled at me, and Fix just shook his head. They joined me a minute later.

"Harry Dresden," Lily said with a smile, and offered me her hand.

"My lady," I answered, taking it.

"Harry," Fix said, a little unsure.

I smiled and offered him my own hand. "No hard feelings, Fix." He sighed, relieved, and we shook. "I know you didn't have a choice."

"The Queen's word is law to us," he confirmed. "Now, I have to ask, how did you get here so fast?"

Straight-faced, I looked him right in the eye, and thumped my staff on the ground, once. "Wizard," I said.

"Everyone has their secrets, Fix," Lily said, still smiling. "What can we do for you, Harry?"

"Walk with me?" I tilted my head. She nodded, and started south, Fix and I flanking her.

Might as well get right to it. "I need the answer to a question. I need it to be as straightforward as you can make it. And I need you to promise not to tell anyone I asked. It's kind of a personal question."

Her smile faded. "This is serious."

"Very."

She considered a moment, and shared a glance with Fix. "You are my friend, Harry. I will answer your question, to the best of my ability, if I am able to do so. I will also promise not to mention this question, but, as you know, if I am asked, I must answer truthfully. Will that suffice?"

It was a close as I was going to get to a 'yes' from a faerie queen, mortal or not. The thing about the Fae, and their queens, is they can't lie; they're physically unable to. But they can dance around an answer like nobody's business.

I nodded, once.

"Then please, ask."

I took a deep breath. "You know how you and Maeve have been cooperating when Mab seems to do something… out of character?"

"We have," she acknowledged.

"Well, what if I told you I have reason to believe that Mab may not be the one to watch?"

"I don't understand. Do you mean Maeve - ?"

I shook my head. I glanced at Fix, who was looking at me like I might be the crazy one.

"No. I mean Titania."

She stopped walking, and kept looking at me for a moment, with that expression people wear when they don't quite hear something. Then she laughed. It wasn't exactly a belly laugh, though. "You can't be serious!"

"Harry," Fix put in, "I haven't spent a lot of time with Titania, but Mab is one who asked you to rescue a crime lord. Mab is the one who marshalled her forces on her border when Summer was trying to help the White Council."

"I know, I know. Mab's also the one who imprisoned my godmother, and those fetches that kidnapped Molly 4 years ago took her to Arctis Tor, which is Mab's home turf." I was nodding, and slowly trying to talk myself out of believing Titania was behind the Black Council. But I knew what Aurora had said.

"Harry," Lily said, "you have to admit this is an odd question. Are you simply bouncing the idea off us, or do you have proof?" Both she and Fix looked worried. Scared, in fact.

They should be. If I was right, not only was there a mad faerie queen running amok, but they hadn't noticed it in 6 years, despite serving her.

They're both very powerful, but they're both also very young. When I met them, they'd had no power, and had spent their entire lives under the protection of others, including the previous Summer Knight. Learning that their new patron was crazy would be a huge blow to both of them. They didn't want to believe it. I could make them believe, but not without hurting them both.

I didn't want to do that to them, but I didn't think I had the right to lie to them.

But powerful or not, they're still kids to me.

And I'm not Fae.

"Just a theory," I lied. "A hope, really. Don't much relish the idea of being indebted to Mab. Last time I saw her, I had a very bad week, and I still owe her a favour. I don't suppose Titania has any ideas about her?"

Lily's expression cleared. "The Queen keeps her own council with regards to her counterpart. On the rare occasions when she does speak of Mab, it's mostly to countermand something Mab has done, or to balance her actions."

Funny. I was just thinking the exact opposite. "I see. Well, I'm sorry to have bothered you about this. I just thought…"

Lily took on a very sympathetic expression, and she touched my arm. "I understand, Harry. I would not want to owe a favour to a madwoman, either. Though, if I were you, I wouldn't want Titania to be crazy, either. She hates you, personally."

"Yeah, I figured,"

"If I may, what brought this question on?"

I started walking again, thinking furiously. Ah, hell. I'd lied once already. "Things have come to my attention, recently. Vague rumours, mostly. Anonymous whispers."

"Whispers?" Fix said. "From where?"

"Like I said, anonymous. Who knows? Might be spread by Mab to confuse and frustrate us."

Fix shook his head. "It wouldn't be her way. Mab is nothing if not forthright."

"Unless, of course," Lily said, "she has gone mad."

Fix grimaced, somewhat reluctantly. "Of course."

We stopped again, and were quiet for a moment. I looked up, at the large Welcome sign over the main gate of Wrigley Field. "I have one more question for you guys." I looked down, and they were both staring at me.

Lily nodded. "Yes?"

"You're still working with Maeve. Can you put me in touch with her?"

Fix took a deep breath and said nothing.

Lily put a hand on his arm. "Yes, I can. But why?"

"She's a little closer to the source of my worry, if you see what I mean."

Lily studied me for a moment. Then, a moment more. I got a little edgy. Then, "You make a good point. Very well. I will send her a message. Where do you wish to meet her?"

I snorted. "She can come to my place. I only offer to meet friends halfway."

Fix smirked.

*****

My walk home was slow and deliberate; I took my time in the Black Hall to think. Lash walked with me. Or pretended to.

"Did I set them on edge, do you think?"

"The Summer Knight, perhaps. Lily, I think, is too close to Titania."

"You think?" I considered what I'd said to Marcone. "I'm not sure I ever figured Titania would warm up to her."

"She may not have. However, consider Lily's past. She has no parents. Few friends. Titania is the closest approximation of a mother she knows. She will never think poorly of the Summer Queen, much as she would never think poorly of you, or her lover."

I stopped and my head snapped around. "Her lover?"

She gazed at me, steadily. "Fix."

I froze for moment. I hadn't even considered the possibility. "Fix.. and Lily?"

Lash nodded. "They are each the only possible suitor the other has."

I shook my head and started walking again, glancing in windows as I went. "Makes sense, when I think about it. They're… a family."

"And Titania is the head of it."

I nodded. "They are too close. All right, on to Maeve."

"Will you be honest with her?"

"No reason not to be. She's not going to say anything to Titania."

"What of Mab?"

"She can say whatever she wants to Mab."

A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. "I meant, will you speak to the Winter Queen herself?"

"Oh. Maybe. Could be difficult, what with how she can't actually speak right now."

"She may have recovered from her… condition."

"You don't sound too confident."

"I am not. I was trying to be encouraging."

I chuckled as I glanced in another window. I saw the police station, across the street. I was looking out from a travel agency, if memory served. Good to know. "That's sweet of you. But I think we both know that if something was strong enough to injure Mab in the first place, she's going to take a while to recover from it."

"True." Lash's face appeared troubled.

We walked in silence for another few minutes, until I came across the door to the corner store. I looked through, and could see the _Beetle_, cute as could be, sandwiched between two SUVs. Damn soccer moms.

I grabbed the handle, but Lash's voice stopped me. "Harry. There is another possibility you have not yet considered. And it only just occurred to me."

"What's that?" I turned, and she had a worried expression. She was holding her hands together at her chest, working them against each other nervously. That, more than her tone, made me worry. If I've learned one thing over the last few years, it's when an ancient, immortal being starts fretting, we mortals should probably be afraid.

She looked me in the eye. "That, in order to maintain the balance," she said, "_both_ of the Queens have gone mad."

I swallowed. "Not very encouraging, Lash. Not very encouraging at all."

Because if there's anything worse than a mad faerie queen, it's _two_ mad faerie queens.

I sighed and turned back to the door. I love my life.

According to my cheap watch, which for some reason stops dead inside the Black Hall, I had been away from my house for about twenty-five minutes of real time. I decided to take a half-hour detour to Burger King, since I hadn't eaten anything since the Coke that morning. I picked up two extra burgers for Mouse, and headed home.

I put my left hand against the door to will my magical defences down, but they weren't there. Well, they were, but they weren't active.

"Dammit, Molly," I grumbled. I shoved the door open, letting the midday sun inside. There were only two candles lit. "Molly? You in here?"

"Harry? Yes, I'm right here. I - "

I stepped inside. "You didn't re-arm the wards."

She stood up from the couch. "Well, no, I - "

"That was a bad idea. A dangerous idea." Mouse wandered up to me, but only had a nose for my burger bag.

"I know, Harry, I'm sorry, it's just - "

"Did you get my note?"

"Yes, but - "

"And?"

She looked confused, flustered. "And?"

I rolled my eyes dramatically. "And, did you practice?"

"Oh, yeah, but - "

"Well, let's see it."

"What?"

"The fire spell, let's see it."

"But Harry - "

"Now, Molly." I crossed my arms, letting the bag fall and giving Mouse something to dig into.

Molly blew air through her lips. "Fine." She sat back down, held up her right hand, near her face, and stared at it. For three seconds. Five. Ten. Then, "_Infernus_."

A small gout of flame jumped from her hand straight up, then vanished. She jerked back to avoid it. I smiled. "Well done, grasshopper. Just keep from burning off your own eyebrows, and you'll be in great shape."

"Thank you. Now, _Harry_," she said.

"What?"

She pointed to my tiny bedroom. "You have a visitor."

I turned to see a petite woman, with dark hair, a pouting mouth and all-to-revealing street clothes leaning against the doorframe, staring at me. "It is _so_ rude," she said, half-teasing and half-threatening, "to ask me to visit, then keep me waiting once I arrive, _then_ ignore me when _you_ arrive, wizard."

I swallowed, then cleared my throat. "Sorry about that, Maeve. Didn't think you'd get here so quickly."

"Well, that's understandable," she said. She licked her lips. "I never come quickly." She stepped forward into a shadow.

I pointed a finger at a candle near her and muttered, "_Flickum bickus_."

The candle popped to life, and I could suddenly read the words on her very low cut tee-shirt. It read, "I'll Kiss Your Girlfriend For A Shot." She crossed her arms, using the motion to push her breasts just a little higher. It was just a little distracting.

"Molly was kind enough to let me in," she said.

"I'll bet she was. Molly, maybe you should go practice making circles."

"Can I do it in the lab?"

"Yeah, use a compass if you have to."

"Okay." She was gone in record time, obviously glad for the chance to disappear. She closed the trap door above her.

Maeve and I didn't take our eyes off each other until the door slammed down. She reached up and twirled some of her purple- and green- coloured hair around her finger, just like dainty little girl. "She's pretty, Harry."

"She's off-limits."

"She's an adult."

"I'm her teacher."

"Ooh, school-girl. Do you make her wear the uniform?"

I opened my mouth to retort, when I realised she was playing with me. She wanted me angry and off-balance. So I smiled and sighed instead. I could throw her off-balance, too. "Please forgive me, Winter Lady, for my tardiness, but I have a question of utmost importance I must ask you. Only you, in your esteemed position can answer it for me." I even bowed my head a little, at the end. When I looked up again, the expression on her face was priceless.

She was confused. She recovered, but it was a magnificent sight. I've never known Maeve to be anything but an arrogant, manipulative bitch; confusing her was vindictive, but it felt so damn _good_.

"What are you getting at, wizard?"

Finally, plain talking. Well, that deserves more of the same. "Do you believe Titania could be mad?"

Slowly, one side of her mouth curled up. "That," she said, "is information that carries a price."

"I will ask again. Twice."

"That would be rude."

"I've already been rude, today. It won't bother me much."

Her eyes, already blue, faded to glacier ice, but her smile didn't falter. Unlike with Charity, the room actually _did_ get colder, by about 5 degrees. "You're quite the arrogant little man, aren't you?"

My turn to smile. "One, don't take it personally; I'm like this with everybody. And two, we both known I'm not that little."

Her smile got wider and she stepped toward me. She must have been practising walking lately, because she was _very_ good at it. Her hips shifted from side to side, making her jeans cut-offs look like they were trying to jump off her… which they may have been. She stepped right up to me, and I fought the urge to back up.

Still smiling at me, she lifted one hand and stroked it across my chest.

One word: _Yowsa!_

But I kept it off my face. Barely. Her finger traced an s-pattern, heading ever downward. But I still refused to respond to her. I thought about the cruelty I'd seen her display, the pain she had inflicted, the joy she'd taken in hurting others.

Her finger slid down to my waist band, and I gave her a bored sigh.

Her smile finally disappeared, replaced by the pouty look again. "You're not nearly as much fun as Lloyd was," she said, referring to the current Winter Knight. "Still, I see why Mother likes you." She backed up, turned to one of my overstuffed arm chairs, and sat, draping herself over it like a cat, with one leg over the side. Doing so gave me a very good view of her leg, all the way down to her toes, which were painted in a light, frosty blue.

Being a trained and practised observer has its benefits.

"I ask again, could Titania be mad?"

She waited a moment, looking at me. I could see her weighing her options. She wanted to offer me a deal; it's the nature of all Fae to make bargains at every opportunity. She knew I was already in debt to her mother, but that wouldn't make any difference.

Finally, though, she took a deep breath, and rather than make me ask her three times, thus binding her to the answer, she just told me. "It would be wonderful if she were; a relief that my mother is not. However, Mother's behaviour lends itself to madness. If the Summer Queen is mad, then both Queens are… which would be quite delicious, come to think of it."

"Why is that?"

She laughed, and her leg started bouncing up and down, just a little. "My dear little wizard, if the Queens Who Are falter, it is the duty of the Queens To Be to take their place."

I actually felt the blood drain from my face.

"Don't get me wrong, I like Earth. It has many - " she looked me up and down like a piece of meat " – things, to offer." Her eyes slid over the trap door. "Lots of fun to be had." Her face snapped back to mine. "But the chance to rule an entire kingdom, the very essence of which answers to my will? That is an opportunity to be seized."

"You'd overthrow your own mother?"

She laughed again. "Oh, Harry, how do you think Mother came to power in the first place? Why do you think the Queen Mothers are stuck off in that little cottage in the middle of nowhere? Summer would be forced to do the same, of course, to maintain the balance… such a shame that Lily is mortal. Her reign would be a very short one."

"Which would leave Summer at a massive disadvantage."

"Permanently. Unless, of course, she were to take a Fae Lord as consort, in order to have a Fae child. But she's already taken a lover, hasn't she? A mortal one."

I said nothing.

She stood. "Do you have any other questions for me?"

"No."

"Then I'll be off." She sauntered over to the door, opened it effortlessly. "Do say goodbye to Molly for me. She's a dear."

Then she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A short chapter, yes, but things are going to be happening faster now.**

I activated my wards, then tromped down the wooden stairs into my lab. Molly was at the far end in a clear space, holding a piece of chalk. "Is she gone?" she asked in a small voice.

"She's gone."

"I'm sorry, Harry, I know I shouldn't have let her in - "

"It's all right. I invited her; she was a guest and, in her own way, behaved like one."

"You just sent me down here to keep me out of the way, didn't you?"

"Out of her way. I know you know how to draw a circle, Molly. This isn't your home. She was under no obligation to be civil to you."

I watched her suppress a shudder. "She made me… very uncomfortable."

"She has that effect on people. And she does it on purpose."

She was quiet a moment, and I waited. "Harry, can I ask you a question?"

Finally. "Sure, kid." I waved her on to a stool.

She sat, and struggled with her words. At last, she blurted it out. "What do you really think of me?"

"Really? What do you mean by, 'really'?"

"I mean, you said stood up for me, like, it was necessary. And the Blackstaff… I wasn't sure what you meant by all that. The whole breaking-the-laws thing."

"Molly, what you did to Nelson and Rosie was wrong, but it came from a good place. You were honestly trying to help your friends, get them off heroin. But your method was flawed. I didn't think you should be executed for good intentions. It's the same with the Blackstaff. The position is necessary because the Coucil's Laws tie its hands, while its enemies ignore the Laws and the principles behind them.

"Nobility is all well and good, and something wonderful to aspire to… but it only works if everyone does it. Only if we live in a perfect world. And we don't." I took a deep breath, then looked into her face. It was a young face, but the eyes were burdened, and tired. "What do I think of you? I think you're a good person, who has a terrible habit of getting into bad situations. And you still need to learn how to deal with those situations properly."

Her face turned sly. "Sounds familiar."

I rolled my eyes. "Hey, who's the teacher here?"

She smiled again. Then it faded. "Harry, how is the Blackstaff chosen?"

"Good question. First, you have to be powerful, obviously. McCoy has that going for him. Second, you have to be reluctant."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. Why do people become cops? It's not because they want to shoot their weapon; they want to prevent weapons being shot. Shooting is a last recourse."

'Oh, I get it. It goes back to using your power instead of it using you, right?"

"Very much the same thing. The last qualification is being able to keep a secret. Which I have now failed."

"Why did you tell me? You could have asked me to leave the room. And it just got my mom angry."

"They're your family, Molly. And the whole situation affected you. I disappeared, you got in trouble as a result. Everyone deserved to know why."

She went quiet again. "I can keep a secret, Harry."

"I know, kid." I glanced up at Bob's skull. "You should go home."

"But I've only been back for half an hour."

"I know. But you're knocking yourself out. You need sleep. And so do I. Go have another meal with your family. Then be back bright and early tomorrow. We're spending the next three days on potions, and you need to review."

She blew out a breath. "Thanks, Teach." She stood and walked around me, then stopped and gave me a quick one-armed hug. "See you tomorrow." I watched her disappear up the stairs.

Once the door was closed, Mouse poked his head down, then the rest of him followed. "Sorry about Maeve. Did she make you uncomfortable, too?"

He snorted, derisively.

"That's what I thought. All right, Bob. Wake up."

One of the little flickering lights came to life. "You're mean, Harry."

"You mean about Molly?"

"I can't believe you still won't let me meet her. Or even see her!" Both eye-lights were suddenly bright. "You do know she changes clothes down here sometimes, right?"

"Yes, Bob. I do know that. Which is why I told you not to look at her."

The skull growled something in what I think was ancient Egyptian.

_Actually, that was Persian, Harry. I could translate, but you take poorly to people insulting your parents._

_Thank you, Lash. I appreciate your discretion._

"All right, Bob. I need you to tell me the best way to get in touch with Mab."

His eyes dwindled to tiny little tea lights. "Uh, why would you want to know that, Harry?"

"Because I need to talk to her, Bob."

"Well, do you really? I mean, she's not really that easy to talk to in the first place."

I was getting mildly frustrated. "I know, Bob."

"And she's really good at not saying anything when she talks, you know?."

"Tell me about it. I still need to talk to her."

"I would argue that you don't."

"Bob!" A little more frustrated. Mouse's head swung back and forth like he was watching ping pong.

"Seriously, Harry. If she wants to see you, she'll seek you out. That's the way it's always been in the past."

"I'm not going to just sit around and wait. I don't have that kind of time! Lily is too close to Titania and Maeve is too distracted by her libido and ambition to be paying any attention. If anyone understands the Summer Queen, it's going to be Mab."

The response came from Lash and Bob at the same time: "But what if she _is_ crazy?"

I shook my head at the stereo effect, frustration suddenly boiling over, and said, "It's a risk I have to take. This is too important! McCoy can't find anything. We need to know why she's moving against us. _I_ need to know why, Bob. Now tell me. Do you know how to contact her, or not?"

The answer was almost squeaky. "Yes."

"Then tell me!"

"… are you sure?"

I threw my hands up and marched around the table, until I was nose-to-nasal cavity with the skull. "That's it! Bob, tell me why you're so afraid of Mab."

The skull actually jumped. "What?!"

"I'm ordering you to tell me! You're behold to the owner of the skull, Bob. Now behold me. What did you do to make her so angry?"

Bob actually managed to look afraid. "Uh, well…"

"Now!"

The lights winced. I can't describe how, just take my word for it. "Well, about 600 years ago, I sort of, kind of… abandoned her."

My anger was gone in a flash. "Abandoned her?"

"Yes."

"Why would she be so angry about that? Especially after 600 years?"

"Well, it might be the circumstances surrounding my timing…"

I leaned back on my table and crossed my arms. "Which were?"

"Uh, well, you know how she's the mother of the Winter Lady?" It was like a switch had been thrown in my brain. My eyes and mouth both jumped open. _Oh, my_, Lash said. "Well," Bob continued, "every child needs a father."

"You're Maeve's father?"

In a very, very quiet voice, he answered, "Yes."


	4. Chapter 4

I stared at the skull. For a few seconds, I couldn't do anything else. Then, I asked the obvious question. "How the hell is that even possible? You're not even Fae!"

"Fae crossbreed with other species all the time, like humans and spirits. And the species that count themselves as Fae are almost innumerable."

"Why…" I turned and tried to stumble away. I was confused and horrified in equal measure. I suddenly understood where Maeve got her raging sex drive from. "How…" I bumped into Mouse, who supported me as I slid to the floor. "Bob, I always thought of you as a voyeur. To know that you actually… I mean, it's just… how the hell did that even work?"

"Well, for starters, she's very flexible, and you wouldn't believe what she can do with her - "

"Stop! I don't think want to know! No, I absolutely, positively _know_ I do _not_ want to know." Mouse helped me stand up, because my legs seemed to be numb.

Bob was silent. Then a disgusting, morbid curiosity got the better of me, and I said, "Okay, tell me."

"I was going to say '_mind'_, Harry. She has an amazing _mind_. But the power connected with it… well, we were in the heart of Winter. She was able to give me a corporeal body, mostly made of ice. For a short time, anyway. Oh, it was glorious! The sensations! She's a kinky one. We took _days_ - "

I threw up my hands. "All right, I changed my mind back again."

Bob fell silent. I placed myself back on the stool. "Bob, why did you run away?"

"I… I'm not actually sure. I could tell you it's because I didn't want to be tied down, but in reality… I just don't know, boss."

"Just out of even more morbid curiosity, why would Mab choose you as a consort? She could have chosen any of the Winter Fae lords. Why a knowledge spirit?"

"Don't know that either. And didn't really care, at the time. Actually, I still don't. Everything in my existence since that time has paled in comparison."

"I'm sure it does." I felt a tingling at the back of my head. "Wait. There's someone at the door."

I went back up the stairs, still a little unsteady, Mouse at my heels. The door shuddered open as I got to the top. "Harry?"

"Molly?" I stood. "What are you doing back?"

She came across the room to me. "I know you said to go home, and I am, but I forgot about this." She handed me a crumpled piece of paper. There was a name and a phone number on it.

"What's this?"

"A client. Potentially."

I snorted. "I've almost forgotten what those look like."

"I called the answering service and took the name down, but then Maeve arrived, and I got kind of… distracted."

"Understandable. I don't really have time for a client right now."

"This one sounded pretty vanilla. Just wanted to find her son, who's into some dark stuff."

I ran a hand over my face, thinking. "Let's give it to Graver." I handed the paper back.

"Vince?" She perked up entirely too fast. "You want me to call him?"

I looked at her. The sudden perkiness in the eyes, a slight bead of colour in her cheeks… "You're dating, aren't you?"

"What? I… uh…" She flushed a little more.

"Ha! You finally went out with Graver."

She crossed her arms and tried to do that thing women do where they pretend something is the guy's fault. I believe it's called 'getting in a huff.' "Well, he called me. It was that first week you were gone, everything was still pretty normal. What was I supposed to say, 'no'?"

"Absolutely not. I'm happy for you."

"Oh." She deflated. "Well, thanks."

Still smiling, I shooed her back to the door, which was still open. "Go home, Molly. And call Vince."

"Okay. You know, all the business you send his way, he's thinking of taking on a partner."

"I'd be happy if he started giving me a cut."

"You know that's not going to happen. He likes his Mercedes. You know it has heated seats?"

"Please stop talking, now. See you tomorrow."

She left, and I shoved the door closed again. When I turned around, Lash was sitting on my couch. "You are happy for her."

"Yes, I am. She needs something normal in her life."

"Even if that life is to be cut short?"

"_Especially_ if."

The phone rang as she pondered that. I answered on the third ring. "Dresden."

"Harry? It's Rawlins." He sounded tired.

"Rawlins? What's going on? Where's Murph?"

"Dresden… you need to get down to Cook County. Now."

I don't remember the drive to the hospital. Mostly my head was too full of horrific possibilities to pay attention to my surroundings. I'd hung up on Rawlins before he'd finished saying 'now', and dashed out to the _Beetle_. I think I turned around and armed my wards, but I couldn't be sure, and frankly, didn't care.

I drove fast, that I remember. I don't remember parking. I only vaguely remember running in the ER door, arms pumping, having left my staff in the _Beetle_. "The cops," I gasped.

"I'm sorry?" the nurse at the desk said.

"The cops who came in a little while ago. Where are they?"

"Oh. End of the hall." She pointed, and I was off and running before she'd finished speaking. If Murphy died because of politics, I silently promised myself I would not only kill the trolls responsible, but beat the living shit out of every alderman on city council with my bare hands.

"Dresden!"

I skidded to a halt and twirled to face the voice. "Rawlins! Where is she?"

He held up a dirty hand in a fatherly way. His pant cuffs and knees were filthy, too. "She isn't hurt, Harry."

I just stared at him for a second before I could get my breath. "What? Then what am I doing here?"

"Moral support," he said, and nodded at a window. The window looked in on a small room, an office. Murphy was sitting on one side of a desk, ramrod straight and stony-faced, and just as dirty as Rawlins. Two other detectives faced her, one sitting and one standing. The standing one was named Rudolph. He'd once been part of SI, but he'd hated it and taken the first chance to get out.

"Why's she talking to Internal Affairs?"

"They're OIS."

I slowly turned back to him. "Officer-involved shooting?" I whispered.

He nodded.

"Murph shot someone?"

Again, a nod. And now his eyes were heavy. He led me to a pair of chairs against a wall.

"What happened? You were looking for _trolls_, man."

"I know. But trolls ain't what we found."

The story was actually pretty simple, as Rawlins told it. After leaving me at Mac's, he and Murph had congregated with about 30 other officers at an older industrial park, and surrounded a building their sources had picked out as the hiding place for the trolls who'd come through town looking for me. The raid had started perfectly text-book.

The doors went down, SWAT went in, everyone else backed them up. The building had once been a combination office/warehouse, 4 stories high. SWAT went upstairs, SI took the basement. The building was empty, but Murphy found a grate in the floor that wasn't set flush. In fact, it had been moved recently.

The SI cops went down, into what, at first, seemed to be a disused sewer.

"It led to Undertown, didn't it?"

Rawlins nodded. "That's what Murphy said. She led the way."

She led the way, all right. Through half a mile of filth and sludge and darkness, radio silence, strange feelings and half-caught glimpses of worse things, Rawlins at her heel the whole way. Murphy wasn't officially in charge of SI anymore, but most of the team still deferred to her.

When they saw light up ahead, everyone tensed. SWAT was still back at the first building, so Murph stayed at the front. They came out into another dim warehouse, still stacked high with wooden pallets and old crates.

The next minute or so, he said, was the longest in his life.

"The trolls we went looking for weren't there. We didn't know that, of course. So, you got a dozen, very tense cops, walking around in a dark, creepy place, weapons out, looking for four big guys who hurt a bunch of other cops. And it just so happened that this warehouse we found was a drug den."

"Hell's bells," I breathed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Recipe for disaster."

He nodded. "Mostly, it was a heroin den. But we didn't know that until after. But the guy who jumped out in front of us, swinging his arms… he was riding something else. We all knew trolls don't need a weapon to kill you. And Murph was already tense. He came at us…"

"And she fired."

He nodded again. "Just once. In the chest. But it was enough."

"That's… that's awful." I couldn't help it; I looked back to the window into the office, saw Murph sitting there, still as a statue. "She must be dying inside."

"It gets worse."

"How the hell can it get worse?"

"They've identified the kid. Seems he's a rich boy, who got real bored a few months back, and took off with some questionable friends. It was Danny Carver."

Oh, God. "Danny Carver? As in, the nephew of Deputy Mayor Barry Carver?"

"Yeah."

Oh, God, oh, God. "That… that _is_ worse."

"And on top of it all, we never did find the damn trolls."

Oh, _Goddammit_. I suddenly felt sharply, inexplicably guilty.

The door to the little office opened. Rawlins and I jumped up as Murphy was ushered out. "We'll see you tomorrow, Sergeant, 9:30," the detective I didn't know said. Murphy nodded, still stiff. She glanced at me, then looked away. "We're ready for you, Detective," he said, nodding at Rawlins. Then he looked at me. "Who are you?"

I shook my head slowly. "No one." I looked past him. Rudolph was reading some notes, very pointedly not looking at me.

Rawlins placed a hand on Murphy's shoulder as he passed by. "Later," he said.

"Yeah," she forced out, then the door was closed.

"Murph?"

I could see her forcing her breathing to stay under control. "Harry," she said through clenched teeth.

I glanced around, found an empty trauma room behind me. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Murph? In private? It's really important."

She gave me a stiff nod. She followed me into the room, and I closed the door. She stood there, in the center of the room, right next to the patient's table, and began to shake. I ran my hand down each of the Venetian blinds on the room's windows, blocking us from sight.

Then walked over to her, and, without making eye contact, hugged her to my chest.

We stood like that for several minutes. She shook against me, and I knew I might have to change my shirt later, but she never made a sound. One tough cookie, my Karrin. One proud, tough cookie.

A long time later, she pulled away, and I let her. I got very interested in a chart describing the symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning while pretending that she wasn't blowing her nose.

I turned around when she cleared her throat. Aside from a touch of redness, that could've been the result of a late night, she showed no signs of crying. "Thank you, Harry."

"Don't be silly, Murph."

"Rawlins told you?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I wish I could've been there."

She nodded. "Me too. I fuck up less when you're around. I'm usually worried about making sure you don't make a mistake."

"I meant, I might have been able to help. I can feel when there's something magical around. If I'd been there, you would have been relying on that. You wouldn't have been going in blind. And maybe this… this wouldn't have happened."

"Don't be stupid, Harry. I'm a big girl. And I'm a cop." Her throat caught on something, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm trained for this. Or I'm supposed to be." She sank into a cheap plastic chair against the wall. "Instincts have gotten dull. Maybe I relied on you too much." There was only a tiny hint of bitterness.

I took that as a slap to the face, but reminded myself she was hurting, and chose to believe it was sarcasm. This was her way of dealing. Being a cop was all Murphy knew. She couldn't let herself admit that she'd done it wrong.

And in a way… I agreed with her. As police consultants go, I'm kind of a unique asset. Most other departments have to make do with non-supernatural techniques. Was it possible my presence had dulled the tool of Murphy's mind?

"Sorry, Harry. That was out of line."

"Maybe not."

"No, it was. You've never been anything but helpful. I blame the situation. I blame the assholes who kept you away." Her head sunk into her hands.

I let her stay like that for a minute, then walked over and leaned against the wall next to her. "So, what now?"

She pulled her head up and took a deep breath. "Now, I go home. A more complete, formal review begins tomorrow. I've already waived my union lawyer."

"Why?"

"Because I have to be able to speak on my own behalf. I won't let someone else do it for me."

I could get behind that feeling. "Tomorrow's awfully fast."

"The wheels of justice spin fast, when the people in charge want them to."

"Can I give you a lift home?"

She nodded and smiled. "That's sweet. But I can get a uniform to drive me."

"I meant back to my place, Karrin."

"What?"

"I'm not leaving you alone tonight."

"Excuse me?"

"Look, you can either come back to my place, where I will give you my bed, or I'm coming to your place, where you will give me your couch. Since my couch is much softer than yours, not mention longer, I'd rather sleep there. But it's your call."

"Harry - "

"I guess I could sleep on your bedroom floor, too."

"Harry - "

"Or we could just go to Mac's and close the place, then sleep in a ditch."

"Harry!"

"What?"

"You're a stupid, chauvinist pig."

"Yeah, and?"

She sighed. "Fine. You can stay at my place, since you're so damn insistent. I'm not sleeping in that dungeon of yours, especially when I have to dress nicely tomorrow. And I need a hot shower," she added, looking at her hands.

I had no idea where I'd parked, but Lash did, so we guided Murphy back to the car and headed home. She came in with me. Mouse took her out back where he could keep an eye on her under the pretence of needing to relieve himself while I gathered up a few necessaries. A few minutes later, we were on our way.

"You want to stop for dinner?" I asked.

"I think I might skip dinner tonight, Harry."

The rest of the ride was very quiet.

Murphy's house, like so much about her, is just cute. Tucked away in a quiet neighbourhood, it's a very old, well-maintained four-room bungalow. No white-picket fence, but you can see where one would fit. I pulled into her driveway, and killed the engine. Neither of us made any move to get out.

"They made me turn in my weapon."

For Murph, that was like losing a hand. I just grimaced.

"I'm scared."

"Of what might happen?"

"I've used up all my favours, Harry. I used them up 4 years ago just keeping my job. I still don't regret it. And given the choice, I'd go charging after Molly again. But I don't know how I'm going to survive this."

I put a hand on her shoulder. "With help?" I offered.

She sighed. "I'm tired. We should've gone to the dojo. I could use a workout. Keep me awake until bedtime."

"We can spar in the backyard."

"Yeah, right."

"Come on. You can try to punch your way through my shield. That'll work you up an appetite."

That got half a smile out of her. "You really know how to entice a girl, Dresden."

One thing about Murphy, she always has to be doing something; If she stops for too long, she starts thinking. I'm the same way. She wasn't ready to think about what happened yet. We went inside, I dropped my stuff in the little second bedroom, and made a phone call to the Carpenters' while Murphy changed.

I told Michael what had happened, and he insisted that I stay with Murphy. I told him to tell Molly to come by tomorrow afternoon instead of in the morning. Then I went outside and let a short blonde woman attack me.

What are friends for?

We drank the sun down. Murph was icing her hands and I had a small bag of peas on my nose. I'd deserved it; I let my guard down to make a joke about her tiny fists of fury, and she clocked me.

Murphy's living room actually had a pretty good view of the sunset. We'd spent some time reviewing previous cases of OIS, eventually gave it up as a bad job, and pulled out a few bottles of Mac's best dark ale. We didn't talk much. She was ready to think about it, so she was thinking. When she was ready to talk about it, she'd talk, and I'd be there to listen.

She turned on the TV, which luckily didn't explode just because I was in the room, and we watched the second half of _Casablanca_. At some point, she lay down, her head in my lap. A little while later, I heard tiny, cute snores. I picked up the remote, turned the TV off, and pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa for her. Then I leaned my head back tried to get some sleep myself.

I woke up a little while later. It was still dark, but Murphy was making strange noises. Almost whimpers. More like sobs. I reached over and took her hand in mine. The sounds stopped and I went back to sleep.

When I woke up for real, I was alone and had a crick in my neck. My nose was still sore, too. There was cool sunlight coming from behind the house. I stood and stretched, smelled coffee.

Still massaging my neck, I wandered into the kitchen and found an empty mug waiting by the coffee maker. I poured a cup and stepped back into the hall. The back door was open.

I stepped outside, and found Murph on a canvas deck chair, one of those ones that folds into a tube. She was draped in a robe, coffee in hand, her hair still wet from a shower she'd obviously taken, and the sun on her face. Her eyes were closed and her feet, despite the chill, were bare.

"Morning," I said.

"Morning." She didn't move. I was quiet. "I don't do this everyday. I used to. Come outside, enjoy the smell of the air. The grass on my feet. Sun on my face."

"Seems like a nice way to start the day. What happened?"

She turned and opened her eyes. "Work, mostly. Just never have the time anymore. What time is it, anyway?"

I looked at my cheap watch. My watch that Murph had given me as a birthday present a couple years ago. "Quarter to eight."

"Time to get dressed. The drive in could take an hour if traffic's bad." She stood and moved to the door. I stayed where I was, enjoying the sun and the coffee. "Thanks again, Harry."

"You'd do the same and more for me, Karrin."

And it was true.

The drive in did take an hour, but only because I needed to eat. Burger King does breakfast. It's not good for you, but it's fast at the drive-through. Murph still wasn't hungry, but she accepted another cup of coffee. We got to the police station with 20 minutes to spare, and I managed to park right next to her Saturn. I watched her take a deep breath. "Let's go."

"You sure you want me to come in? I doubt it'll look good."

"At this point, I don't give a damn what it looks like. I want my best friend with me."

Well, what can you say to that? I grabbed my staff and we walked inside briskly, all business. I kept my mind clear and my face grumpy; wizard's prerogative. The cops who knew me knew that was my default expression. The cops who didn't would just assume I was grumpy on Murphy's behalf, which I was.

We walked towards the Internal Affairs department, and everyone who saw us knew why. Murphy held her head high, and got a few encouraging nods from various officers; anyone doing the march of shame towards IA would get some encouragement.

I noticed, in an off-hand, completely non-bitter way, that this part of the police complex was much nicer than SI. More up-to-date. Less drafty. Whatever. The draft probably keeps my buddies alert.

It was as we passed the homicide division that I felt it. Just a tingle, at the edge of my senses, but there was a magical presence nearby. I looked around, not bothering to be subtle. I saw a lot of cops, most faces I knew, or at least seemed familiar. A few civilians, giving statements or what have you. No one standing out –

There. Against the wall. A short, stout man, in a poorly cut black suit. A full face and beady eyes, double chin, an ugly green shirt. And a fedora.

"Star and stones," I cursed.

Murph gave me a sharp look. "What?"

"Portly, 2 o'clock."

She looked, and she saw him looking at us. She tensed, but in a very subtle way that actually made her appear more relaxed. He kept looking at us until we passed by and turned a corner. But the feeling remained. "Who – what the hell was that?"

"Not sure, exactly, but definitely from my side of the tracks."

"Why is he here? Why is he watching us?"

"A better question, Murph, is why is he following us?"

We both glanced back, and sure enough, Portly was tailing us down the hall. "What do we do?"

There were normals walking by almost constantly. "Just keep moving." Then the tingle got stronger. We passed another hall, and damned if Portly's twin brother wasn't standing there, waiting for us. The only real difference between them was the dark blue shirt this one wore. He fell in step with the first one.

_Lash? You got a bead on these guys?_

_I believe I may. Do you smell something? Anything?_

I sniffed the air. Nothing, at first, but I can pay pretty good attention to my senses when I focus. Usually, I Listen. Now, I Smelled.

I really need a better name for it.

The smells around me came into sharp focus, even as the sounds and sights faded. Bleach, blood, urine, gun oil. About par for the course for a police station. Nothing foreign… no, there it was. Very subtle. Covered up. Veiled, maybe. Something just this side of dung, but the far side of BO.

My eyes and ears popped back into focus as I felt Portly 3 approach. Again, beyond slight differences in his facial structure, only his dark, blood red shirt set him apart from the others.

"Crap," I muttered. "I can't believe this." There were still too many normal cops and others around to confront them.

"Can't believe what?"

We rounded a final corner, and stopped at the doors to IA, where Portly 4 was waiting, his shirt a dark purple. "Those trolls you were looking for." They had moved into a circle around us. "We finally found them."

There were no more cops around.

We were finally alone.

With four trolls.

Yippee.

"Dammit." Murphy said, now standing back to back with me. "I knew I should have brought one of my other guns."

"Easy, Murph." I addressed Purple Portly. "What do you want?"

His voice came back as a grunt, barely passing for human, yet with a hint of formality. "Wizard. The Queen of Winter desires your presence."

"Really? Then why didn't she just come and see me herself?"

Now, with a hint of zealotry, he grunted, "Do not question the Queen." All four disguised trolls stood uneasily, shifting from foot to foot, restless. In humans, that would usually be a sign of anxiety. In trolls, it usually meant they were itching for a fight. A troll fight here, in the heart of the police station, would not only bring the building down, but also kill a lot of people.

"Right. So you were sent here to take me to her?"

Purple grunted again.

"A month ago?" Murphy asked.

Another grunt.

Now Murph's voice got cool. "And you hurt a bunch of cops when you didn't find him?"

Purple looked her right in the eye, and stopped moving. Maybe he was recognizing a kindred spirit, or something. Then he grunted affirmative again.

I had to put an arm out to stop Murph from attacking him. The troll actually smiled. It was hideous. Whatever veil these guys were using, it didn't disguise their teeth very well. "I'll go with you, soon. I have something to do first."

Another grunt, this time from Red Portly. "Now."

Damned if I'm going to let a troll boss me around. "Soon," I said. "I can't come right now. I have something important to do first."

Now Blue spoke up. "Cannot disobey."

"The hell I can't!"

Then Green said, "Queen commands."

"I owe her a favour, but I am not Winterbound."

"Harry," Murphy said.

"What?"

"I don't think they mean you. I think they mean themselves."

Of course. I almost facepalmed, as Molly would say. Trolls were Mab's main enforcers. Just as with the Lady, or the Knight, her word was law to them, and they could not disobey. "Now that they've found me, they're obligated to take me to Mab. _Physically_ obligated – they can't _not_ do it."

"So if you don't go with them?"

"They'll start breaking things until I do. Probably starting with my legs, and finishing with the walls."

"Dammit. I have to go in."

"I want to go in with you, Murph."

"But if you do, bad things happen. I get it. Go, Harry."

"Murph - "

"Go. No more people get hurt because of me."

And that was that. "I'll find you as soon as I can after."

"I know." I bent down and she gave me a kiss on the cheek, then held me in place a moment, mouth near my ear. She whispered, "But if any of these faerie bastards happened to get killed or maimed on your trip, I wouldn't object."

I smiled. "That's my girl. I'll see what I can do."

I straightened up, and with one last glare around the circle, Murphy walked into IA, head held high.

"All right," I said to Purple. "Take me to your leader."


	5. Chapter 5

The Nevernever is freaking huge. I mean, in theory, it goes on forever. Literally. Right out to the edge of the universe. As such, it's really easy to get lost there. So, I was glad to have guides.

That is the only reason I was happy to be surrounded by trolls. Once Murphy walked through her door, Purple put a big hand on my shoulder, and pushed me. Right through a wall.

It's not as bad as it sounds. All Fae have the innate ability to cross over to the Nevernever whenever they want to. Some are just better at it than others. These four weren't bad. The wall itself was their transit point; once they were through, it was closed.

We emerged into a snowy field, on the edge of a creepy forest, under a clear sky. I was immediately glad I was wearing boots and that my duster is so heavy. My breath came out in frosty gusts and the hairs in my nose began to freeze. But there was no wind, so it could have been worse.

I turned around and saw my escorts dropping their veils. Their suits vanished, replaced by loincloths, each the colour of their shirt while disguised. Their bodies seemed to roughly double in size and turn rotten shades of green. Their teeth didn't change. They were now much taller than me.

And the _smell_. Hell's bells, I was glad my nose was half-frozen already, and a little swollen. The purple one, who was apparently the leader, jerked his head, and we were off. The trees of the forest were covered in ice. The snow was hard-packed and would make a lousy snowman, but it was easy to walk on. We tromped along for about two minutes, silent but for the crunch of snow, ice, and dead brush underfoot.

As we crested a rise, a gust of wind came up, dropping the temperature and bringing a billow of white stuff in the air. After a moment, it cleared, and I looked down. There, about a mile further along, was Arctis Tor.

The great palace of the Winter Queen was made of solid, black ice. Mostly circular in shape, with enough spires and towers to put any European castle to shame, it was also a fortress. I knew from experience that it would take a small army, all throwing around Hellfire, to breach it.

_The Denarians who breached the walls were likely Tessa, Dierdre, and one or two others, _Lash said.

_Seriously? Four of you could do what was done here?_

_Four of _them, she gently corrected me. _And yes. The Denarians are not known for their extensive teamwork, but they are known for their destructive abilities._

_No matter how many of them there are, they're a scary bunch._

_You have a better understanding than most, yet I would still say, 'you have no idea.'_

I swallowed and kept walking.

The closer we got to the fortress, the colder the air became. I buttoned my duster and kept switching my staff from hand to hand to keep my fingers from freezing. My escorts didn't talk much, and I counted that as a blessing. I didn't want to be on the receiving end of their breath. I used the walk to think, instead. I didn't get far.

Mab didn't want to kill me. If she did, she would have sent assassins at me until one got lucky. Which meant she wanted to talk. But if that was true, why not just seek me out? Or send a messenger? It didn't make much sense.

The one thought I had that really surprised me was anger. Not at Mab, or Maeve, or even Titania; I was oddly angry at Bob. If you're not an orphan, it's hard to explain why. If you are, no explanation is necessary. True, he'd said he wasn't sure why he'd bolted, but for someone who had never known one parent, then lost the other, knowing they were both taken away, it was hard to be understanding of a parent who simply took off.

Bob was my friend, and despite his vast knowledge, he had a child-like naivety when it came to understanding good and evil, right and wrong, or any morality at all. Being upset with him over something like this was a waste of effort. I put it at the back of my mind and focussed on my current crisis.

We approached the palace proper, and the ground was clear around it for at least a mile in every direction, as my mortal eyes saw it. There were more trolls on guard duty, one about every fifteen feet around the circular outer wall, all scaly muscle and ugly mugs, outfitted with armour made of ice and massive clubs and jagged swords. There were massive wolf-like creatures with dirty white fur patrolling around. Their muzzles were stunted and ugly, and a few were bloodied. I tried not to think about the last thing they had caught, or the last time they had cleaned.

I got a lot of beady stares, but I didn't break stride with my escort.

My smelly guides led me to a tunnel through the outer wall; about fifty feet long, and maybe twenty overhead, I had seen it before. The last time I'd come to Arctis Tor, this tunnel had been half-full of bones, mostly trolls. They had been incinerated by the Denarians and their Hellfire. There were no bones now. No scratches on the ice. Not even a commemorative plaque. Like it never happened.

I suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold and kept walking. Mercifully, the tunnel blocked out the wind. Unfortunately, it also blocked most light. I began to get the feeling of being herded to slaughter.

No, that's not right. It was more like being pushed along a reverse birth-canal, heading towards death. The tunnel was tall, but narrow, and being surrounded by fifteen-foot tall trolls didn't help the image.

I kept the feelings off my face. As my old teacher Ebenezar McCoy once said, if you're walking into hostile territory with a scared expression, you might as well paint a bull's-eye on your backside and bend over.

He's a classy guy.

We emerged from the tunnel to no small relief on my part. The courtyard was largely empty, save for the tall, black ice-building standing in the center. It was a round tower, stretching up at least four or five hundred feet. I knew, because I'd raced up the stairs inside a few years ago with Charity to find Molly.

Instead of heading for it, my honour guard turned to the right, and paced along the outer wall. As we circled the main tower, more shapes came into view behind it: a pair of shorter, thinner towers; and a massive, rounded bulge in the fortress wall. From above, it would have looked a bit like the old Oldsmobile symbol.

They led me away from the wall, to the space between the three towers. We turned to the bulging edifice, where a door that looked to be made of solid ice, run through with every colour I could imagine, stretched from ground to top.

Purple stepped forward on one side, Green on the other, and they both sank their hands into the middle of the door. Each heaved, and the sheet of ice split perfectly straight, right down the middle. The two doors swung open.

"In," one of my escorts grunted. I wasn't sure if it was Blue or Red, and didn't care. I was just glad they didn't shove me. I didn't look around, I didn't start to shake in fear, and I sure as hell didn't quaver in my boots thinking about what fresh Hell Mab was going to put me through in her own inner sanctum. I just walked forward.

The throne room was dark but for the light from the doorway, though I could see the area was large, and rose in steps toward the back wall. Before I could make out much more, the doors were shoved closed behind me.

After a dramatic moment of darkness, light began to refract through the ice beneath me. I felt like I was standing in an igloo that was on fire. The glow began to radiate out, slowly ascending the steps toward what could only be the Winter Throne. The ambient darkness receded, and after a few moments, I could see the Throne clearly.

It was, like everything else there, made of ice, but it was carved beautifully, with all the dark and cool colours running through it like a twisted, one-sided rainbow. There were ornate shapes over every inch of it: animals, including bears, wolves, sabre tooth tigers, and at least one dinosaur; lots of sharp points, I thought representing glaciers and such; and what I swear was an image of Miller Park in Milwaukee.

Maeve was sitting there, draped over it exactly like she had been sitting on my old armchair. "Hello, wizard."

"What's going on? I thought I was here to see Mab."

Maeve just smiled.

From my left, I heard a voice, not quite human. It belonged, not to Mab, but to an oddly cat-like creature I knew as Grimalkin. "Oh, you are," it said.

I spun to my left, to see Grimalkin standing on all fours beneath a display case of ancient artwork and weapons. Mab wasn't there. "What's going on?"

"I am here, Wizard," Grimalkin said. Mab had used Grimalkin as a translator before. It seemed she had not recovered from her injury.

"Where?" I asked.

A sudden tension next to my head made me spin again, but not before I heard a cold, harsh whisper that shook me from the inside out: "Here!"

I turned, and there, right next to me, was the Winter Queen. Pure white hair, like Lily, but not as youthful, not as vibrant. Hers was the harsh, cold white of driven snow. She was still beautiful, and her dress was an exquisite (and flattering) cut, of the darkest blues and greens you could imagine.

I took all this in, in the second it took her to drive a knife into my chest.

I fell backwards from the force of impact, dropping my staff and grabbing at the hilt of the knife. It had entered my chest right over my heart, and slid right in; I could feel the cold of the metal inside me. I gasped, and felt the strength leave my legs as I sank to my knees. The breath was driven from my lungs as I landed on my ass.

I couldn't believe I was going to die like that. Equal parts surprised and angry, I gasped again.

_Harry!_

I started to hyperventilate, closed my eyes and tried to get my breathing under control. Then I drew in a breath to throw out my death curse.

_Harry, stop!_

Lash was shouting at me.

_What? What is it?_

_You're not dying._

_What?_

_Just relax. You're not dying_.

It was then I realised I'd drawn in a lot of breaths. In fact, I was still breathing. And not coughing up blood.

The blade didn't hurt. I opened my eyes and looked at it, sticking out of my chest. I grabbed the hilt. I could still feel the blade, sunk right in to my heart, but for some reason, the little muscle just kept on beating.

I looked up at Mab, who was eying me cautiously, not moving. "What the hell?"

Maeve gave a groan of disappointment. "I guess it really is him, Mother."

The Winter Queen was nodding. "It would appear so," she said without her mouth. Grimalkin stepped up beside me, gave me a very creepy, toothy grin, and stepped over to Mab. The light spread further through the room, and I could see everything.

_You can pull the knife out, Harry. If it is what I think, it will not hurt you_. She paused, for effect, I think. _It_ can_not_ _hurt you_.

_You're sure?_

_Reasonably, yes_.

What the hell; I wasn't dead yet. I took the hilt in both hands, and pulled, straight out. It slid out silently. There was no blood on the blade, and I didn't even have a scratch on my skin. There was a hole in my shirt, though, which I poked a finger through.

Standing, I gave Mab a dirty look, which she repaid with a playful one. "What was that all about?"

"I had to be sure my enforcers brought me the right person," she said by proxy. She held out her hand, waiting for me to give her the knife back.

I looked at the little blade. "I've seen this before. But only the hilt. I've never seen it drawn before. Not when Lea had it, not when you wore it on your side."

Her face went stony, but her hand remained out. She had taken the knife from my faerie godmother, Leanansidhe, to restore balance within the Winter Court, or so she had said. I still wasn't entirely clear on what Lea had done to require additional punishment; last time I saw her, atop the tallest tower, she'd been half-frozen into an ice sculpture. Mab later told the knife was on par, power-wise, with the Swords of the Knights of the Cross, the ones with the nails from the Crucifixion worked into their hilts.

Holding it one handed, I stooped to pick up my staff. It felt very comfortable in my hand. "What is it?" I asked.

Maeve stepped up beside her mother now, and they exchanged a look. Then the Winter Lady asked, "You are familiar with an athame?"

"Of course. A knife used to direct magical energies, or seal circles. Never to cut or draw blood."

"Yes," Mab sort-of said. "_That_ is the apotheosis of every athame."

The knife was gorgeous. A perfect blade, wrought of bronze, rather than the hated iron; the handle carved from blackened bone or horn, with various symbols I vaguely recognized; they looked like they were rougher, earlier drafts of glyphs I was more familiar with, like the ones running up and down my staff.

"Why didn't it kill me?"

"Art thou not listening, wizard? An athame is not for the spilling of blood. Not mortal blood, at any rate. This athame, the first, _Nonvalens Caedus_, _cannot_ spill the blood of mortals."

_Lash?_

_It is as I believed. The knife cannot harm you. But, it can destroy anything normally immortal._

_What?!_

_It is true. That is it's power, that is why it is so feared and respected among the Fae, even without an iron blade_. She paused. _I remember this weapon, and I know I have seen it before, but…_

_But your memory's still giving you problems?_

I felt an ironic smile form behind my eyes_. I_ _would say it is your memory._

I smiled myself. "_Nonvalens Caedus_. Unable to kill. Perfect name."

"It is. Now," she said, holding out her hand again, "kindly return it."

"You're not going to stab me again, are you?"

"There is no need."

"Of course not. If I weren't human, I'd be dead now, wouldn't I? If I were Fae or vampire or whatever."

She hesitated before answering. "Yes."

"Useful toy."

I flipped it in my hand, and held it out, handle first. Maeve took it and handed it back to Mab, who carefully slid it into a jewelled scabbard at her hip.

I had wanted to ask Mab about Titania, but I wasn't sure doing so with Maeve around was a good idea, so I stayed quiet.

"Can we offer you refreshment?" the Queen asked. Maeve turned to walk to the opposite wall. Shelves lined with decanters, bottles and jugs of all shapes, sizes and colours lined it.

"No, thank you." Taking Fae food or drink was a subtle way of getting into their debt, and damned if I was getting in any deeper than I had to. But of course, she knew that. She was mocking me.

"Pity," Maeve said over her shoulder. She upended a bottle and drained a few swallows of a dark red wine. When she turned back, some was still on her lips. I looked firmly at her mother and did not watch her lick her lips out of the corner of my eye. Nor did I see her hop up on a cabinet and cross her bare legs…

I sighed and addressed Mab. "Why am I here?"

"Because, wizard," her borrowed voice said, "I wish you to repay your last favour to me."

Huh. Whatever she said next was going to likely be very difficult, probably painful, and definitely something I couldn't weasel out of. No way was she getting it that easily.

"Really? That's why you sent trolls out looking for me? Why they were permitted to attack other mortals? My friends?" I thought of Murphy. "People I care about got hurt because of them."

Mab looked thoughtful. "They were not permitted to harm other mortals, though they sometimes are difficult to control. Little matter. I will discipline them later."

My anger evaporated, replaced by apprehension. I knew what Mab was capable of when it came to discipline. The current Winter Knight, Lloyd Slate, was a prime example. He'd moved against Mab 6 years ago, siding with Aurora to destroy the balance between Summer and Winter.

She'd been torturing him, non-stop, ever since. Even now, he was probably half frozen in the winter garden atop the tower, just like Lea. Either that, or in Mab's bed, anticipating going back to the garden, where he'd be frozen in ice until his limbs rotted off, only for her to push Winter Ice into his body and heal him, starting the process over again.

I actually felt a little sorry for the trolls.

"Oh. Okay, then." Before I could get sidetracked, I gave Maeve a questioning look.

Mab looked over her shoulder. "You don't wish her to be here?"

"I just don't know if I need more people than necessary knowing my business."

"Silly wizard," Maeve said. She hopped down from her perch on the cabinet and walked back to us. "Mother and I tell each other everything."

I raised an eyebrow. "Everything?"

"Yes. Including about our conversation earlier today."

Mab nodded at me, a slight smile returning to her face. "Just so."

Well, that couldn't be good. "Really? Including _everything_ you said?"

"Of course."

That didn't make much sense. "Including your future plans?"

She smiled, and it was mischievous and scary. "Oh, dear wizard. Think. Did I actually say anything definite?"

"You - " I stopped.

_Lash?_

_She made four statements: If the Summer Queen is mad, both Queens must be; if her mother were to falter, she would take her place; she would enjoy ruling here; and Molly is a dear. But to your question of whether she would overthrow her mother, she gave no definite answer._

_Of course._

" - did not," I finished.

Maeve giggled and wandered away again.

"Perhaps," the Queen's voice said, "rather than call in your final debt to me, I will offer to answer your question."

"What do you mean? What question?"

"The question of my sister Queen. She moves against you and yours, and you wish to know why. I can tell you that, if you perform the service I require."

Now that was an offer. "You can tell me? Tell me why Titania is doing what she's been doing?"

She nodded.

I was nervous as hell, and paying off that debt would have been welcome, but this was the answer I'd been chasing since McCoy and I had gone walkabout, Star Trek IV style. But she was Fae, and one of the trickiest. I needed to clarify.

"You'll tell me everything? Why Titania is moving against the Council? Who's involved?"

"Your Black Council?" She considered for a moment, and my heart raced. After what felt like a very long time, she nodded. "Yes. I will tell you everything I know, if you fulfil my request."

_Lash? Am I trapped?_

_I do not believe so. But my dealings with the Fae have been rare._

_So you're about as sure as I am. Hell's bells, I'll take it. Maybe._

"What is your request?"

Her smile got a lot bigger. "I need you to find two people for me."

I was actually underwhelmed. "That's… that's it?"

She bounced an eyebrow. "Yes."

Ah. Two missing persons. "Why can't you find them?"

"They are blocked from my sight."

"How?"

Her smile vanished. "I do not know. They hide in the mortal realm. Shielded, perhaps, by mortal magic."

Huh. The mystery deepens. "Okay. Who are they?"

Maeve appeared from nowhere, draping an arm around my neck and putting her mouth next to my ear. "She wants you to find Daddy. Aurora's, too."

Oh, stars and stones.


	6. Chapter 6

I ran up the stairs to the SI division. This building in the police complex was old, small, and run down. I'd never trusted the elevator and wasn't about to start now.

When I'd returned from the Nevernever, I'd been half a block away from the station, and ran there as quickly as I could. I barged into the main building and headed straight for IA. As I was passing homicide, a voice called my name. "Dresden!"

I skidded to a halt, turned. Froze.

The voice belonged to Rudolph. He approached me slowly, glancing around to see who was looking at us. At him.

"What?" I said, not trying to be polite.

To his credit, he had the decency to look and sound sheepish. He avoided eye contact. "Murphy's gone. You missed her by about 20 minutes."

"Gone?"

"I wasn't in her hearing, I don't know what happened. But she was pretty green when she came out. Ashen. Walked straight out, didn't talk to anyone." He glanced around one more time, then slunk away.

I froze for a second, thinking about what all that meant, then turned and ran to SI.

As I came through the door, I was already looking for Murph's desk. I walked straight there, ignoring every face pointed at me. Murphy's desk, right next to Rawlins', with the picture of her parents in the corner…

I felt a hand on my shoulder, stopping me, as the desk came into view. It was Rawlins. "She's gone, Dresden."

"Gone where?" My voice was tiny, thin.

"Probably for a drink." His voice was sad. "That's what I'd do."

I pushed past him, looking down at the empty desk. There were no personal effects on it. The computer was off. The picture wasn't there.

I stared for a long moment, and I felt the room grow quiet. Most of the cops there knew me; I'd been working with SI longer than most of them had. Murphy had been the first one to call me in; most of the team ended up in SI as punishment of some sort. She'd taken a real risk, calling in a professional wizard, but if she was in charge of SI, her career had been in a bad place anyway.

Then she'd made it her own, earning a reputation for closing cases and being tough, and inspiring the loyalty of her people. She'd lost some of that by being loyal herself, helping me. We'd saved Molly, but it had taken Murph away from her job at the height of a crisis, and she'd been punished, harshly. If that hadn't happened, maybe _this_ wouldn't have happened.

I was angry. I was completely, blindly angry. No, maybe that doesn't do it justice. Maybe outraged is better. Rage is deeper than anger, less reactionary. Anger is what you feel when you hit your thumb with a hammer, or someone rear-ends your car. Rage is what you feel when you hear about a travesty that you're powerless to prevent, or a horrible injustice that the world shouldn't have to bear.

My staff's runes flared to life, alternately silvery-blue and blackened red, as both Hellfire, the demonic gift Lash's presence granted me, and Soulfire, the heavenly equivalent I'd recently acquired, leapt to the command of my subconscious. I felt the eyes of everyone there on me.

I brought my left arm up, then I brought it down, hard, on the desk. It cracked under the blow, just like my knuckles. Rawlins' computer and four nearby lights sparked blew out. My hand hurt like hell.

John Stallings, a good man and a good cop, currently in charge of SI, came out of his office. The office that had once been Karrin's. "What the hell is - " he started. He stopped when he saw me.

"I should have been there," I said, in a quiet, scary voice. I started to walk out. "I should have been there, and politics be fucked."

"Dresden - " Rawlins said quietly.

I slammed the end of my staff down, and the door blew open. No one else tried to say anything to me as I left.

*****

Murph had left a note on my windshield:

_Harry;_

_Gone to Mac's, you know why._

_I may need a ride home._

It being lunchtime, that wasn't what one would call a 'good sign.' Mac wouldn't serve anyone for a few hours yet, but then, Murph wasn't just anyone.

The _Blue Beetle_ stalled twice on me. Some relaxed breathing and a few choice words got it going again, but I was obviously upset. When I finally got to Mac's, the anger was mostly gone, replaced by worry and regret. The _Beetle_ couldn't tell the difference, though, and hacked and coughed and jerked until it finally died.

I got it out of gear before it bounced to a stop, jumped out and pushed the last few feet while steering with one hand. I managed to sneak into a space just a few spots down from Murphy's car, and went straight inside. I'd have to call for a tow later.

About a dozen sets of eyes swung to me when I walked in. I'm a regular, and 6'6", so I tend to draw the eye, but I knew they weren't looking at me out of fear or surprise. The looks mostly said, "It's your problem now."

It was quiet inside, almost reverential. The ceiling fans slowly rotated, keeping the air circulating and producing what little sound there was; the thirteen intricately carved columns broke up line of sight and dispelled ambient magical energies.

At the far end of the pub, sitting at the bar alone, looking down at a bottle, was Murphy. Mac was standing behind the bar, right in front of her, polishing a glass and somehow looking protective. He gave me a nod.

I nodded back and moved to the bar, plunking down next to the best woman I'd ever known. There was no expression on her face. No life in her eyes.

Mac dropped a bottle in front of me, gave Murph one more look, and moved away. We sat in silence for a long time as the life in the bar slowly returned. Occasionally, one or the other of us would take a drink. Time passed, and I waited.

"It could have gone better," Murphy said, eventually, taking another swig.

"I gathered."

"You talk to Rawlins?"

"Sort of." I showed her my knuckles. "Talked to your desk, first. I'll be lucky if I don't get charged with damaging police property."

She smirked. "Thanks." Another drink.

"Sure."

"You saw Frosty the Snowbitch?"

"Yeah. She made me a deal."

"Of course."

"Questions about Titania answered, in exchange for some foot work."

"She can't do it herself?" Swig.

"Funny you should say that. She can't."

"Really?" She finished her bottle, and another appeared in front of her, as if by magic. Mac even made the first bottle vanish. Best. Bartender. Ever.

I explained about what Mab and Maeve had said. It grabbed her attention completely. Like I said, my story-telling skills have gotten good. More than that, though, Murph needs to be doing something. This was an investigation, a problem to solve. She didn't have to think about herself if she was thinking about this.

"You know how to find these guys?" A little piece of me noted Murph was using her cop voice. She'd also taken her hand off the bottle. Good.

"Well, I needed names. So I asked."

"And?"

_And she told me. Once Maeve got her arm off me, Mab said, "The father of the former Summer Lady was named Edimon. He was a Sidhe of the Seelie Court. The father of my daughter was nameless; a spirit of air and intellect made manifest by my will."_

"That sounds familiar," Murphy said.

I nodded and gave her a significant look. "It should."

"She was talking about your perverted skull?"

"Yeah."

"Bob is a father?"

"I'm just as disturbed as you are. The mercy is he took off before he could do any real damage."

"Huh. Dilemma."

"Not quite."

"Oh? I thought he was your friend. And a research tool. You can't just turn him over."

"I thought of that. Of course, I had to make a bad joke or two, first."

"Of course." Murph rolled her eyes.

_Looking at Mab, and starting to walk around a little to restore circulation, I'd asked, "Couldn't find anyone good enough, huh?"_

"_Look around you, wizard. While Summer may gather all her nobles in Equius Val, the Unseelie rarely gather at all." She'd given Maeve a glace at that point, adding, "There are exceptions, of course."_

_Maeve averted her eyes and walked away. Her parties were the stuff of legend._

_For some reason I couldn't put my finger on, something started to bother me about Mab. Like something about our conversation was just… off. I just couldn't figure out what._

_I asked what she wanted the Fathers for, and was told it was none of my concern. I said it was my concern, as I would not willingly turn living beings over for torture or murder. She asked if I would like to be tortured myself. I responded that it didn't matter what her threats were, if she wanted me to fulfil her request. What did she want them for?_

_She still didn't want to say anything, so I decided to be an ass. I know. Big surprise._

"_Thrice I ask and done!" I might as well have slapped her, the way she reacted._

"That was probably stupid," Murphy said.

"Oh, without a doubt. But I wanted to get out."

"_Thrice I ask and done! Will you harm them?"_

_The room got really cold. She was slow to respond. "I do not want them to harm or kill them, wizard. But bind me again, and I will freeze the blood in your veins." From behind her, Maeve smiled, and there was no warmth in it, either._

"_Fair enough," I said. It was then I realised what that odd feeling I'd been having about Mab was. As I'd been walking around, so had Maeve. But Mab wasn't moving at all. "My Queen," I asked, very politely, "why do you not move?"_

_Both of them gave me a searing look. Then, slowly, Mab began to smile again. "What dost thou imply?"_

"_You've not moved from the spot you're standing on since you plunged the knife into my chest. The Lady has done everything for you since my arrival. And you did not come for me yourself, but sent emissaries. I ask only why?"_

"I'm guessing she wasn't too happy about that."

"Surprisingly, she didn't seem too put out. Impressed, maybe. Maeve was."

"_Again, I see what you mean, Mother. He _is_ sharp."_

"_Yes, Daughter. He would make a fine Knight." That, of course, sent a chill down my spine. Mab grabbed a cut of her dress, and pulled it back, revealing… something disturbing. Her entire right leg, from the hip down, was just gone. It had been replaced with a long, thin, solid piece of ice._

"That's… weird," Murph said.

"Well, the Sidhe aren't exactly known for being normal. Thing is, when I spoke to Bob about their, uh, liaison, he said Mab was able to fashion a whole, articulated body for him out of ice. Which raises a couple of questions."

"Like why couldn't she make her artificial leg work?"

"That's one."

"And why couldn't she just heal herself? Why'd she need a replacement in the first place?"

"That's two. Or three. Whatever. But they're even more interesting given that she was in the heart of her territory, her throne room, literally the seat of her power. If she couldn't heal herself there…" I trailed off.

"Then she's either weaker than everyone thought…"

"Or she's getting hurt worse than everyone thought. Either way, bad."

"This leg thing is a new injury, I take it?"

I nodded. "It's like Mab's off fighting a personal war, somewhere, and getting her ass kicked. Maybe her and Titania have been duking it out."

"Is that likely? Or even possible?"

"Without anyone finding out about it? Not really." I thought for a moment. "There aren't a lot of forces that could hurt Mab. Titania could. An archangel could. Maybe the Denarians, if a few of them were working together. The entire Senior Council at once. Or maybe an Outsider. That's about it."

Murphy shook her head. "Short list of suspects."

"Shorter still; the archangels wouldn't get involved in Faerie politics, unless they were attacked first, which neither Summer nor Winter has had time or power to do. The Senior Council has too much else going on with the vampire war. But Titania, the Denarians, and maybe an Outsider or two are involved with the Black Council, I'm sure of it."

"And Mab's standing up to them alone?"

"She wouldn't stand for an invasion of her territory. Or something going against her interests. But she'd gather an army for that."

"So, in short, we don't know what's going on."

I noted the 'we', and it made me smile. "No. Don't have a clue. Maybe she'll explain when I turn up with the Fathers."

"You know where this Edimon is?"

"No," I said, tapping my temple, "but I have a lead."

_Mab limped over to me. "If you divulge my condition to my enemies," Grimalkin's voice said, "I will cause you suffering the likes of which you cannot fathom."_

_I believed her. "I won't." Incidentally, there are few things creepier than listening to someone threaten you without moving their lips._

"_Good. Now. Do you accept my offer?"_

_With an official-sounding voice, I said, "I will bring the Fathers of the Ladies before you, in exchange for all the information you have on Titania's actions against the White Council, including who her compatriots are."_

"_Done," she said. Then she grabbed my shoulder and pushed me. By the time I landed on my back, I was on a sidewalk, half a block from the police station._

_I stood up, and Lash was standing there with me. "You do not fear for the spirit?" she asked._

_I started jogging, saying, "No. She's promised not to harm or kill him. It's the best I was going to do."_

_Lash appeared to be running next to me. Her hair and… uh, muscles, bounced very realistically. Of course, as soon as I noticed that, it stopped. "Actually, she said did not _want_ them for harm or death. If it were to happen accidentally, I doubt she would be bothered."_

"_Dammit!" I think I scared an old couple I was running by at the time. "I'll have to think of something. Some sort of failsafe. In the meantime, I don't even know where to start to look for Edimon."_

"_I was going to tell you: the name is familiar."_

"_You know it?"_

"_As I say, it is familiar. For some reason, I associate it with the church."_

"Good thing you have contacts at the church."

"No kidding. I have to go talk to Mich – oh, crap!" I hit myself in the head. "Molly!"

"What?"

I hopped off my stool. "She's at my place. We're supposed to be having a lesson today. I have to – oh, crap again. I need a lift."

"_Beetle_ died again?"

"Yeah. Could you?"

"You do know I just had two drinks in half an hour, right Harry?"

"Yeah, I was there."

"Which is too many."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Can I drive?"

Smirking, she took out her keys and tossed them to me. "You'd better not break my heated seats."

When I first got in, it felt like a clown car, and I nearly dislocated both legs getting the seat adjusted. Murph shook her head while I got settled, then we were off. Miracle of miracles, nothing bad happened to her car, which was a real blessing; she was in a bad enough place.

We pulled into my driveway, right behind a blue Mercedes.

"Whose car is that? A neighbour?" Murphy asked.

"My neighbours don't drive that well. That's Graver."

"Vince Graver? God, how much business do you give that guy that he makes house calls?"

I scowled and shut off the car. "Enough." I got out and walked up to the boat on wheels, but the non-descript detective wasn't inside it. "Molly must've let him in." Murph followed me to the door. His Highness, Mister the cat, was waiting for us. Today he had deigned to gift me with a dead bird. "Thank you, m' lord." He threw a giant headbutt against my legs, and probably left a bruise.

I disarmed my wards and shoved the door open.

The apartment was empty. There were a few candles burning. By their light, I could see the carpet that normally covered the trap door to my lab was thrown back.

I slid my staff into the ancient milk container by the door, which also housed my genuine Victorian sword cane, and two Swords of the Cross. I hesitated before deciding not to take any of them.

Not allowing myself to form thoughts, because thoughts lead to conclusions, I stepped over to the trap door, and yanked it open.

Molly jumped into view. Her hair had changed colour again, now a bright, metallic silver. "Hi, Harry!" she said, slightly out of breath. I could have almost kept myself from jumping to the aforementioned conclusions, if she wasn't busy buttoning her shirt closed.

I kind of froze, Murphy at my side. My head tilted to one side, apparently all by itself. My eyes grew a little larger. Every muscle in my body stiffened. I probably looked homicidal. Felt it a little, too.

I took three tries to open my lips; my jaw would not move. "Molly," I said. "What are you doing down there?"

Graver came into view, and thankfully, none of his clothes needed to be adjusted. "Dresden," he said, friendly as you please. Even gave me a little nod.

"Vince," I said, still unable to move. "So nice of you to drop by." I tried to add, "To violate my apprentice," but the words didn't come out.

_Why the hell did I not say that?_

_I prevented it, _Lash said_._

_Why?_

_So that you do not regret it later._

_Dammit!_

"Maybe you should come up here," I said instead.

"Sure." Vince started to climb the stairs, Molly behind him.

"Molly?"

"Yeah?"

"No."

"Right." She shrunk back down to the floor.

I managed to stand as Graver emerged from the sub-basement. He held out a legal-sized envelope in one hand.

"What's this?"

"Those people you asked me to look into. The Japanese group?"

"Oh." I took the envelope, just managing to not rip it from his hand. "Thanks." I turned around. "Murph, could you hold this, please?"

"Harry, what are you doing?"

"I'm just going to have a quick conversation with my apprentice." I was no longer angry, but I was annoyed.

"Harry - " But I was already on my way down.

Molly was sitting on a stool, hugging herself, staring at Little Chicago.

I kept my voice down, but it was hard to keep the annoyance out of it. "I… I really don't know where to start, grasshopper."

For once, she didn't jump straight into an apology. Instead, she licked her lips, and looked me right in the face. "I'm 22, Harry."

"I know. And?"

Her words suddenly came out in a rush. "I'm 22 and a virgin, and I'm probably going to die in a month!" With no warning, there was a tear on her cheek.

The annoyance died in my throat.

"There's a lot of life I haven't lived yet. And I'm missing out on so much." She choked herself off.

I rubbed my mouth, sighed and sat down, but none of those helped me think of something to say. So I just started talking. "Why here?"

Nope, not what I was hoping I'd say, but it was something.

"It's not like I could do it at home."

"I guess not. Your parents are big on waiting for marriage."

"It's a religion thing. I mean, I want to, I think… I know, there was a time I didn't care, but… nothing motivates like a deadline, right?"

"Quite literally." We were quiet for a five count. "You're actually afraid you're not going to be ready?"

"Yes."

"Molly, I'm going to do everything I can – _we're_ going to do everything _we_ can – to make sure you're ready."

"I know. And Dad and Mama are towing the same line: Have faith."

"They would. Knowing you're going to die is a scary, humbling experience, isn't it?"

She nodded. "I know I've faced it before, and God knows, if I stay your friend, I'm going to face it again, but last time, I barely had any idea what I'd be leaving undone." I resisted the impulse to say, _You mean 'who'?_

We were quiet again. Then I looked back up at the trap door. "Graver, huh?"

She snorted. "Well, we are dating. Kind of."

I shook my head. "In the _lab_?"

"Well, it's not like I was going to do it in your bedroom. That's just… wrong. Besides, we never even got to second base."

"Your shirt came off."

"He didn't touch me, or anything. It was just kissing and - " Her voice got very quiet. "Showing him a tattoo." She blushed, and it was adorable.

I let my mouth fall open. "I thought you had them removed."

"No, I just veil them."

I stared, equal parts surprised and impressed. "That localised? And that close to your skin?"

"Yeah. It's cheaper than laser removal."

"But it's not nearly as easy."

"Sure it is. I mean… I don't find it hard."

I shook my head. "Well, it's hard for me. It's hard for most wizards, but you have it down. It's the one you don't really need any practice on."

"Thanks." We were quiet again. Then, "Are you still mad?"

I rubbed my eyes and sighed again. "No. Truth is, I'm the last person who can get up on a high horse over this. I lost my virginity at fifteen, in my teacher's house, to a girl I'd been told to think of as a sister."

"Elaine, right?"

"Yup."

"Wow. That's much worse than me."

"Yeah. So, we're going to ignore it. Come on up."

I led her up the rickety stairs, emerging to a quiet conversation between Murphy and Graver. Mouse was sitting beside her, keeping a wary eye on Graver, just like a good over-protective chauvinist would. What can I say? He learned from the best. I saw Murph slip something into her pocket.

"Dresden," Vince said. There was only a little inflection in his voice. "Are you and I going to have words?"

"No. Actually, I'm sorry. I kind of over-reacted. We're cool."

"Good. Molly, I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah. Bye, Vince."

"Nice talking to you, Karrin."

"Talk to you later," Murphy said. "And thank you."

"No problem." Molly walked him out.

In a low voice, I said to Murph, "'Thank you'?"

"What? He's a good listener."

"And I'm not?"

"Don't be jealous, Harry. It's cute as hell, but you're above it."

"Oh. Well, yeah. Hey, keep Molly up here for a minute? I have to grab Bob."

"Sure."

I slipped downstairs. I flicked Bob's skull with my finger. Quietly, I said, "Eyes open, Bob. There was a half-naked woman down here just a few minutes ago, so I know you're awake."

The orange tea-lights in his eye socket blinked. "Oh, hi Harry."

"You listened to them, didn't you?"

The skull shook a little. "Well, yeah. You would have, too. Wouldn't you?"

"Not if could help it. Look, I'll be mad at you later, right now, you're coming with me on a trip."

The skull jerked again, and Bob squeaked. "You talked to Mab, didn't you!?"

"Yes. She wants to see you."

Another squeak.

"Look, I made her promise not to kill or torture you, okay?"

"You made her promise she wouldn't do it herself, or made her promise it wouldn't happen? It's kind of a big distinction!"

"Nothing's going to happen to you if I can prevent it. Despite your glorious lack of understanding of human nature, you are my friend, and I will protect you."

"Here's an idea: why don't you just leave me here, in the skull? It shields me completely from her sight!"

I paused. That was an advantage I hadn't considered, mostly because it hadn't occurred to me. Etienne the Enchanter, a very powerful wizard in Dark Age France, had created Bob's bony refuge. I'd never thought that it was also magically protective for him, but it made sense.

Just before my trial when I turned sixteen, I'd retrieved Bob's skull from the wreckage of the house I'd shared with Elaine Mallory and Justin DuMorne, the crazy former Warden and my foster father. I'd known Bob, had nicknamed him that just a few months before. It took the Wardens only a few minutes to corner me in an abandoned barn 12 miles from DuMorne's house, but I'd stashed Bob in a hollow under a floorboard, and he'd still been there when I came back almost three years later.

Which meant no one had looked for him, or if they had, they hadn't found him.

"Okay, I never meant to remove you. Stay in there." I picked up the skull and went to put it in my pocket.

"You know," Bob said, "if you want to construct something that even Mab can't break down, you could always go back to the island."

I froze. "You mean Demonreach?"

"Lots of power bubbling around there, Harry. And the island's locus likes you."

"True. But the leyline is a little… beyond me, just yet."

"But - "

"I'll consider it, Bob." Then I asked, "Bob, do you know anything about a Sidhe named Edimon?"

"Are you kidding? That guy was a legend."

"How so?"

"He bailed on Titania just before I ran away myself. Actually, you guys have a few things in common."

"What could I possibly have in common with a Seelie Lord?"

Bob actually snickered. "Harry, Edimon wasn't a Lord of the Summer Court. He was the Court Fool." I sighed one more time and shoved the skull in my pocket.

Of course. Send a fool to catch a fool.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: A special thanks to Krogan for his help; to everyone else, this chapter might seem short, but the next one will be longer, I promise.**

"We're heading out," I said as I came up the stairs.

"Where to?" Molly asked. "I thought I was getting a lesson."

"Well, you're staying here." I went into the kitchenette and pulled out a broom. "I want that auto-sweeping spell working by the time I come back."

"That stupid broom spell?"

"It was the first spell I ever mastered, so you'd better get it. Otherwise, I'll be embarrassed."

"Fine. But this place is spotless."

That's because I have a standing cleaning service of faeries, a permanent thank-you from Lily. Of course, if I tell anyone that, they'll find out and refuse to come back ever again. Wish I knew why.

"I just want the broom to move, today. It doesn't have to actually clean anything. Murph, can Mouse come along?"

"Are you kidding? I'm more worried about _you_ making a mess."

Mouse's jaw dropped open into a big grin, tongue dangling out.

"Oh, shut up," I told him. He huffed. "She does _not_ like you more," I muttered, and walked to the door.

I opened it, and turned to let Murphy out first. She grabbed my staff and handed it to me, her eyes lingering on the makeshift stand.

"Nothing on those, huh?"

"The Swords? No. I'll be honest, Karrin; except for the Knights themselves, I think you're the only person who's ever noticed them there, or even asked about them."

"But you'll know when you're supposed to pass them on?"

"That's what I'm told."

"Huh." Murph ran a finger over each hilt. Mouse and I exchanged a look. Even Molly was watching. For a moment, it looked like Murph might pick one of them up; her hand hovered over _Fidelacchius_, the Sword of Faith. Then she blinked and shook her head. "Let's go." She walked out, Mouse at her heel.

"See you in a bit, Molly."

"Sure. Hey, Harry? To get a spell like this to work, do I think clean thoughts or dirty thoughts?"

Her eyes popped open and her hand slammed over her mouth as she realised what she'd said.

I licked my lips, then bit my tongue to keep from laughing, and closed the door on her still-blushing face.

I drove to the Carpenter house, with Bob on the dashboard. "Alright, Bob. Tell us everything you know about Edimon."

"First, may I just say it's a pleasure to see you again, Officer Murphy."

I winced, but Murph took it in stride. "It's Ms. Murphy, Bob," she said. "I was fired this morning." Her voice kind of caught on the last word.

"Oh," the skull said. "Awkward. Um… do you need a hug? I hear hugs make people feel better."

"You don't have a body to hug me with."

"True, but I was thinking more that you could just nuzzle my skull into - "

"Bob!"

"Right! Sorry, Boss. Edimon. As I said, he was a legend. The Summer Court Fool."

"He was the jester?" Murphy asked, uncertain.

"Not exactly. Did make Titania laugh, something no one else has ever managed to do. But the title of Fool, in the old way of speaking, means more than that."

I took up the line of reasoning. "It's a lesson that Shakespeare knew. In his plays, if there's a fool around, listen to him. He's usually the only character that understands the truth of a situation."

"Remarkably accurate, Boss. Edimon had a natural gift for helping the rest of the Sidhe understand things. When he fled in, oh, it can't be any later than about AD 1410, things changed."

"Isn't that about when the Renaissance started?" Murphy asked.

"Well, technically it started before then, but that's when it really got going, yeah," Bob said. "It was the time when the Sidhe started to really withdraw from humanity, and science began to get a real foothold, at least in Europe."

"Wait," I said. "You're saying Edimon was responsible for holding back the _Renaissance_? He stretched out the Dark Ages?"

"In a way. Like the Fool he was, he had an understanding of humans that the rest of the Court lacked; he knew that if humanity ever came into its own, it would be a force to be reckoned with. The longer they were kept in ignorance, the longer the Fae would remain dominant over Earth."

"So with him removed - "

"Science reared its ugly head, and magic began to wane. The Fae got weaker, human magic got weaker. Really, no one benefited."

"Of course, you witnessed this all firsthand."

"By the time his absence had an effect on Sidhe politics, I was comfortably contained in this cranium."

"So, to sum up, Edimon had influence, which for the Fae, means he had power. And he had an understanding of humanity that no other Fae seem to have." I paused, mulling it over. I didn't like my conclusion. "He knows how to blend in."

"Especially with 600 years experience. You could probably bump into him on the street, and not even get a tingle off him."

"Great."

"Hey, Harry," Murph asked, "why am I holding this envelope?"

"Oh. I had Graver look into the names of Jade Court vampires, see what he could track down."

Bob said, "Ooh, more hot vampires?"

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. "McCoy's been doing the same through arcane channels. Open it up."

She did, pulling out half a dozen sheets of paper. She looked them over with a practised eye. "Not a lot here."

"That's what she said!" Bob shouted.

I set my jaw and ignored him again. "Every little bit helps."

I held up a finger to Bob before he could repeat himself.

"Yamohito Hai. Deceased. Birthdate unknown. Age at death unknown. Minority owner of two companies, both Japanese. No known relatives.

"Akira Wei, exactly the same story, but different companies.

"Sumi Kitoro, all the same, except her living status is unknown. Their businesses are all quiet, modest, consistent and profitable. Taxes filed on time every year. Perfect business people, trying not to draw attention, almost all textile makers."

"And the last name?" I asked.

Murph flipped a page. "Kai Taira? Another Jade?"

"McCoy found the name in Pietrovitch's old journals. He wasn't in the Rockies, and he wasn't travelling with Kitoro. The only thing we know for sure is that Pietrovitch met him once. We figure he was able to keep his memories because the meeting took place in San Francisco."

"San Francisco?"

"Yeah. The morning of April 18th, 1906."

"Ah. Interrupted by the movin' and shakin'."

Bob laughed. I took a corner more sharply than necessary. "Hey - whoa!" The skull rolled off the dash down to Murph's feet. "Uh, little help?"

We left him there.

"Whoever Graver's source is, he should up the pay," Murphy said. "Taira is a mover and shaker himself. Sits on a dozen boards, owns a few smaller companies outright, holds land in about 20 different countries."

"Not the usual MO for the Jade Court."

"No." She mused, and I let her. I was glad Murphy was able to focus on something. Myself, too; if I stopped and thought about her getting fired… I'd probably end up punching a wall for a week. "You know, every questionable organization needs a public face. The Mafia, the Triads, the Klan…"

"The banks," I added.

She snorted. "They need someone out in the world, putting a good spin on them, and bringing in assets."

"That's Taira's role?"

"As long as no one knows he's a vampire, it's perfect."

"The whole immortality thing puts the brakes on that."

"Maybe they take turns," she said. "You know, turns becoming prominent, while the others remain anonymous. After a few decades, they cycle."

"Almost makes sense."

"Yeah. I should be a detective or something."

I looked at her in surprise. She gave a me a tiny smirk on one side of her face, but I knew the joke was for my benefit.

Not long after, I pulled up in front of Michael's house. I put Bob back in my pocket, and Murphy, Mouse and I walked up to the front door. I knocked.

After a moment, Alicia Carpenter opened it. D'oh.

"Hello, Alicia," I said.

'Lit up like a Christmas tree' doesn't quite describe her face. "Mr. Dresden! Hi! How are you? Please, come in!"

Murph lifted an eyebrow at me, and I ignored it. "Thank you."

"Hello, Mouse, Ms. Murphy."

"Hi," Murph said. Mouse extended his neck for a scratch behind the ears.

I stepped inside, and Charity appeared from the kitchen, her hands still covered in the detritus from lunch. "Harry? What's going on? Where's Molly?"

"She's fine. At my place, right now, practicing. She's coming along nicely."

"Oh, good." She turned to Muphy and wiped her hands on her jeans.

"Hello, Mrs. Carpenter," Murph said before she could say anything. I suspect Murph said it so she wouldn't say 'Officer'.

"Don't be silly," Charity said, stepping forward and extending floury her hand. "Anyone who risks their life to protect my children can call me Charity."

Murphy shook her hand. "Then you'll have to call me Karrin."

"It's a deal. Well, lunch is over, but can I offer you anything?"

"We had quesadillas," Alicia said.

Mouse perked up. He loves Mexican food. It just doesn't love him.

"Oh, no you don't." He looked at me, all puppy-dog eyes. Literally. "Seriously?" He broke into a grin. "You know you're not sitting at the table. And we're cracking a window on the way home." He huffed at me and rolled his entire head. "Fine. Just had to be sure. Charity, I don't suppose you could put a few scraps in a bowl? I promise he won't make a mess."

She smiled. "Of course. Mouse, please come with me."

She headed for the kitchen, and Mouse very eagerly, yet politely, wiped his feet, then followed her.

"Stupid dog, always making me look bad," I mumbled. When I looked away from the furry SUV, Alicia was looking a me. Still. She wasn't smiling anymore; she looked like a student waiting on her favourite teacher. I looked back.

"So, what brings you by, Mr. Dresden?"

"Actually, I need to talk to your dad for a minute. Do you know where he is?"

"Sure, I'll take you," she said quickly, and reached down for her shoes.

"Murph - "

"I'll be in the kitchen, Harry," she said. She was already moving, and was obviously hiding a smile. A few steps later, she looked over her shoulder at me, and tried not to laugh.

What are friends for?

"He's out back," Alicia was saying. She led me to the back door and out. There was no one else out there, and she closed the door.

"Where?" I asked.

She was quiet for a moment, hesitant. Then, quickly, "He's in the workshed, but, Mr. Dresden, can I ask you a question?"

Oh, stars and stones, here it comes. I kept my voice friendly, but not too inviting. It's a tough balance. "Sure, Alicia. Fire away."

Again, she hesitated. "I… kind of have a crush on someone."

"Really?" Again, I tried to keep neutral.

"And I can't really talk to Mom or Dad about it. But you're kind of like a big brother, only, you know, a grown-up. And Mom said you used to live in sin, so you understand these things."

Wait, what? "It's sweet that you think of me like… a sinful brother. But you… you do have a couple of older siblings."

"I know, but Daniel's away at school, and Molly's always at your house. Besides, you've already talked to the person, and Molly says you're really understanding."

Uh… huh. "Alicia, who is it? Who are we talking about?"

She looked up at me very slowly. "You remember Kelly?"

Wow. Did _not_ see that coming. "The second baseperson on your softball team?" I'd given Kelly a few words of encouragement, and had it on high authority that she was going good places with her life.

Alicia nodded. "She's said you really helped her that time you guys talked. She's my best friend. But… the last little while, I've just had these… feelings. You know? I like her. A lot." She was hugging herself, now. "And it's not like I can go to the bible for answers about this."

I was a little dumbfounded, so I just muttered, "No, I guess you couldn't."

"I'm just confused."

Poor kid. I kneeled down. "Alicia," my tone friendly now, "does Kelly feel… uh, the same way you do?"

"I don't know. I mean, I pay attention, and I've never heard her talk about boys."

"I see. So, you want to be more than friends, but you're afraid of ruining the friendship, in case she doesn't feel the same way."

She nodded.

"Kid, I'm going to tell you something I wish I'd been told years ago, and took me just about forever to figure out myself. Something I think everyone should be told: the human heart, the soul, are very powerful. They know things that the mind doesn't. It's called instinct. On some level, people just _know_ when something is wrong, or when it's right. Kids are actually better at paying attention to those instincts than grown-ups are.

"If your first feeling, your first instinct, tells you that your feelings are right, and natural, then I'd bet they are. If your first feeling says that Kelly doesn't feel like you do, then that's probably right."

"Instincts, huh?"

"You know what I do for a living? It's not that far removed from what your dad used to do. I trust my instincts. Trust them with my life. They haven't let me down yet. Trust yours, kid. They won't steer you wrong. Listen to your heart."

She gave me a small smile. "Thanks, Mr. Dresden."

I shook my head. "You're growing up, Alicia. I think you can call me Harry."

"I have a brother named Harry. It would get confusing."

"Fair enough." I stood and we turned toward the workshed. We froze.

Michael was leaning in the doorway, watching us, his expression almost pained. Without a word, he ambled over to his daughter and scooped her up in a bear hug. "I'm sorry, Alicia. I'm sorry you didn't think you could come to me."

For her part, Alicia hugged back, eyes shut tightly. "It's… it's okay, Dad. I'm sorry, too." Then she was smiling.

After a long moment, during which my shoes became incredibly interesting, I heard, "It's chilly out, Alicia. You should go inside, or grab a jacket."

"Right. Bye, Mr. Dresden."

"Later, Alicia."

"Alicia!"

She turned back. "Yeah, Dad?"

"Mr. Dresden is right. You should always trust your instincts. And always listen to your heart." Then he gave her a wink.

She smiled at both of us, then ran inside.

"That was good of you, Harry. Thank you."

I shrugged. "It was the right thing to do."

He nodded slowly. "It was. Well. Are you here to see me?"

"I just need to ask a question."

"Please." He gestured into the shed. Inside, I saw wood everywhere. There was an unfinished bookshelf laying on one worktable, held rigid by clamps.

"Shelves, huh?"

He limped over to a stool next to the table. "Daniel and Molly are both making noises about finding their own places. And no one ever has enough shelves."

Thinking of my own place, packed to bursting with books and random magical arcana, I was forced to agree. I sat on another stool, probably handmade in that very shop. It was sturdy and comfortable. My kind of furniture.

"So, what did you come to ask me?"

"It's about someone I'm looking for. Have you ever heard the name Edimon before?"

"Edimon, Edimon… it rings a bell." He put his bearded chin in one big hand and started thinking. "Must have been years ago. I'm sorry, I'm not sure where I heard it."

"He was a Sidhe. Banished about 600 years ago."

After a moment, he shook his head again. "I'm sorry Harry."

"Would Forthill have mentioned him?"

"Why?"

"I have reason to believe Edimon sought refuge with the Church."

"Really? Well, if that is so, Father Forthill would be the man to ask."

"Thought you might say that. Figured I'd try here first."

"Are you afraid to speak to him?"

"What? No, why?"

Michael tapped his temple.

I snorted, and looked at my left palm. I showed it to him. "Lasciel's sigil hasn't come back. Lash is in my mind, but she's not pushing me. I know it's your instinct not to trust her, but she's in my head. And, believe it or not, she's not the Fallen she used to be."

Michael was very still, eyes on me. "My instinct?"

I grimaced. See above for my thoughts on instinct. "Alright, fair enough. But think about the ultimate goal of the Knights of the Cross, Michael."

"To redeem the Fallen?" he said.

"Yeah," I said, standing. "The bearers of the coins. And, maybe, the inhabitants, too."

His eyes fell away from me as I headed for the door.

*****

Lash was standing in the middle of the yard as I came outside. She had a small smile. "Thank you, again."

I smiled back. "You're welcome." She vanished.

I was halfway across the yard before Michael emerged from the shed. "Harry!"

I turned back. "Yeah?"

He looked a little uncertain as he limped over to me. He struggled to find his words, then said, "The first step to redemption is admitting you have done wrong. The second step, I suppose, is getting someone to listen. I don't necessarily trust the shadow, but I do trust you. You just counselled my child to trust her heart, exactly as I would have." He shook his head. "If you say the shadow is not a threat… I believe you."

I nodded. "Thank you, Michael."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Once again, a big thanks to Krogan, for pointing out something I should have noticed. A beta is a wonderful thing.**

Murphy drove to the church. "I explained my situation to Charity."

"How'd that go?"

"She was sympathetic, said it was the force's loss." She seemed to think about it for a second. "I like her."

I grinned into my hand.

"I'm going to cry again," she said out of nowhere.

"What, now?" I wanted to sound sympathetic, but it didn't happen.

"No," she said, very matter-of-fact. "Probably tonight, once I'm alone again. Just thought I'd let you know. Tomorrow's going to be a bad day."

One of her hands was resting on her gearshift. I put one of mine on it, just as Mouse put his over-sized head on her shoulder. "Karrin, you never have to be alone if you don't want to be."

She gave us a fierce grin and squeezed my hand for all of three seconds. Then she let go and asked, "So, Michael have any advice besides 'go to the priest'?"

"No. He said the name rang a bell, but that was it."

"For someone who held back the whole of human civilisation, you'd think Edimon would be better known."

"He didn't hold back everyone, Murph."

"Harry, he postponed the Renaissance."

"In Europe. Everywhere else in the world was doing just fine. In the Americas and Africa, people were in touch with nature, living their lives. Australia, too. In the Far East, philosophy and science were on fire. The Middle East was virtually the most advanced civilisation on Earth at the time, economically, socially, scientifically.

"Europe was really a bastion of the old ways."

"You almost sound nostalgic."

"I'm not saying the world was better off back then. But there was more magic. More stability. Of course, there was also more disease, more war."

"That depends on where you live, doesn't it?"

"Touché."

"So, how'd it go with your new secret admirer?"

"Umm…" There was a muffled shout from my pocket. "Oh, whoops." I pulled Bob out and set him back on the dash. "Sorry, Bob."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Did I hear correctly? Alicia's swinging the other way?"

Murphy turned to me, and managed to keep driving straight. Must be a cop talent. "Harry?"

"Oi. Um, Alicia sort of… came out to me."

Murph was quiet for a moment, went back to watching traffic. Then, "Huh. How old is she?"

"Fourteen."

She nodded, absently. "Little early for that sort of realisation, no?"

"Kids. They grow up fast these days."

"Doesn't the bible kind of.. you know, put the brakes on that?"

"Michael would be the first to say, 'It doesn't matter _who_ you love, as long as you _do_ love'."

She smirked. "A bit corny. Michael said it?"

"Nope. 100% Dresdenism."

"That explains the corn. You didn't tell her parents, did you?"

"Not my place, but Michael knows; he overheard us. And he was cool about it. I mean, it's Michael, of course he was cool about it. So if he knows, my guess is Charity will find out within the hour."

"This is great!" Bob said. "I've always wanted to know a girl who'd go d-ahh!"

Murph took a corner sharply, and once again, Bob rolled to the floor. I rested my foot on him.

"I know what it's like, you know," I said, surprising myself.

"What? I could have sworn you were straight, Dresden."

"Hardy-har. I mean coming to a fundamental realisation about yourself, and being scared of it. Not having anyone to talk to. Coming into my magic was like that."

"You don't talk about your childhood much."

"You know most of the important stuff. After my dad died, I bounced around the system. Then, one day, I jumped really far. I told Molly about this. I won a long jump competition at school. Never should have been able to. I spent the next two weeks figuring out what else I could do – mostly I could make the wind blow. It was great for a kid who'd been feeling powerless. But scary as hell."

"I can see the parallel."

"I'm not going to belittle her, but sexuality… well, everybody's got it, one way or the other. Best estimate on magic is that about one in 200,000 people have some, and maybe one or two percent of those are at wizard level."

"You were alone."

"Completely, for a couple weeks. More alone than when my dad died. You have no idea how many horrible thoughts went through my head, just trying to figure out where the magic was coming from, why I could do it and no one else could. Was I cursed? Was it a demon? I'd seen The Exorcist by then. Freaked me out.

"Then Justin showed up, and let me know I wasn't alone. A couple months later, he brought Elaine home, and it was like I had a family again."

"Must have been a huge relief."

"That's putting it mildly. So, yeah, I know what Alicia's feeling, in a way. And now that her parents know, she's got that sense of relief. She can be comfortable with herself again. As bad as my trial was, afterward, learning that there were wizards and others like me all around the world…" Goddamn vision, always blurring. "Justin always made it seem like we were the only ones. Our little family. There is nothing worse than having your family ripped away from you. Twice."

We were quiet for a moment. I looked out the window and blinked a lot. Mouse took a turn putting his head on my shoulder.

I felt a slight hesitation in my mind, like someone opening their mouth and closing it several times. _Lash? What's wrong._

_It is nothing. A stray thought._

_It can't be nothing if it's worrying you._

_Allow me to rephrase: it is nothing that cannot wait._

_If you say so. But whatever it is, it's got your attention. Promise me we'll talk later?_

_Definitely._

I filed that away under 'Stuff to Worry About Tomorrow.'

Then, Murphy said, "So, Forthill will know who this Edimon guy is?"

I put Lash and her conversation to the back of my mind. "I hope so," I said. "He's our best local source. I don't relish the idea of climbing the Church's internal ladder, trying to get answers."

We got to St. Mary of the Angels about 3 in the afternoon. I had Murph pull around back, to the loading door. I'd gone in that way more often than through the front, and was more comfortable there. I put Bob back in my pocket.

Forthill answered my knock himself, with a smile and a handshake. He ushered us into the usual room, and, as usual, offered us sandwiches and bottled water. Murph turned them down, but I accepted since I hadn't dug in to Charity's creations. Mouse got a small bowl of stewing beef, which I could tell he enjoyed by the fact that it was beef. We sat at a folding table.

"So, Harry, Karrin. What can I do for you?"

I faced him squarely as I finished a tunafish on rye. I tried to speak and swallow at the same time, and had a predictable result.

As I choked, Murphy hit me on the back and said, "Well, Father, we're looking for someone." I heard her say 'we' and realised this had become a partnership. I gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling that had nothing to do with heartburn.

His brow furrowed. "Someone in the Church?"

I cleared my throat, gulped down some air. "Yeah," I forced out. I swallowed again, and my voice strengthened. "Michael said you'd be the man to talk to. We need to appeal to your talents as an historian."

"My, you do give me credit. Alright, who do you need to find? Or is it a tomb?" He reached for a sandwich.

"The name," I said, "is Edimon."

His eyes snapped to mine and his hand froze halfway to the plate, just like in all the movies. It was actually kind of cool.

I looked away before I could feel a soulgaze coming on. "I take it you know the name?"

His hand retreated slowly. "Yes. Yes I do. But I haven't heard it years, Harry."

"Even if you can just point us in the right direction, it would be appreciated."

"To what end? Why do you need to find him?" He was starting to sound defensive.

I considered lying, but hell, I was talking to a priest. Instead, I shrugged and said, "The Winter Queen asked me to."

Forthill stiffened in his seat. "This is about the Queens. Everything you were talking about yesterday."

I nodded. "Yes. Mab offered me information I need about Titania in exchange for finding the Fathers."

Before I could explain who the Fathers were, he asked, "Both of them?"

"Uh, yeah."

"What for?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I only got her to say she didn't want them to - "

_Lash? What did she say exactly?_

_To harm or kill them, she said._

" - harm or kill them," I finished.

He relaxed, a little. "I'm not an idiot, Harry. I know how tricky the Sidhe can be."

"I understand that. But unless I find this guy, more innocent people are going to get hurt. Or killed. And that's me appealing to you as a priest."

He bowed his head into one hand and rubbed his brow for a moment.

"I promise you, Father, I will do anything and everything I can to protect Edimon from Mab and her ilk."

He looked up slowly. "Swear it on your power, Harry."

"Father?"

"I cannot deliver a man to certain death, no matter who that man is."

"Even to protect another, Father?" Murphy asked. Sometime when I hadn't been looking, her crucifix necklace had emerged from her collar. When did I get so surrounded by Catholics?

He glared at her, then it softened into… guilt? "Delivering another I don't think I could do. Myself, that's not even a question. I took an oath, and I take it seriously."

"I swear it, Frank. I swear on my power, as a wizard, I will do everything to protect Edimon." I felt a tingle go up my spine, and a quivering in my pocket, as Bob struggled to say something even though I'd told him to keep quiet.

A promise broken in the mundane world can hurt someone's reputation. A promise broken in the magical world can hurt someone's ability. When a wizard swears on his power, he binds his power to that statement. If the promise is broken, the power is broken a little, too. Enough broken promises, and a wizard is left with nothing.

After I pronounced my promise, Forthill relaxed further. In fact, he seemed to deflate.

"Alright," he said, voice shaky. "I'll tell you. Beginning to end, but only once, so please don't interrupt."

Murph and I leaned forward, and I think Mouse even perked up his ears.

In the voice he used when giving a sermon, Forthill began.

"Edimon was the Fool of the Summer Court. He was well liked, and enjoyed his position. He was favoured by Titania, as he was the only one in the Court who could make her laugh. In times of war and hardship, she heeded his advice above even her generals, as he was quite perceptive, and Summer flourished, always in balance with Winter.

"A little over six centuries ago, the Queen declared she would have a family; a daughter to carry on after her, and accept the mantle of Summer Lady. As you can imagine, the suitors started coming out of the woodwork. Sidhe Lords of every shape and description begged for her favour, and her bed. Only one member of the Court did not, and in time, it became obvious he was the one she wished to take as consort: Edimon.

"At first the Fool could not accept; he held his Queen in high regard, and though he loved her, he knew she did not love him. He had spent much time among the mortals, and had been affected by them. He understood humanity in a way no other Sidhe did, or even could. He knew she did not love him, because he was the only Sidhe who truly knew what love was.

"Eventually, he acquiesced, he love and desire to please his Queen greater than his fear of a broken heart. This was to prove his undoing. For though he gave her a daughter, he wished to give her more. She did not want a husband, or even a consort; she wished him to return to the role of Fool, and be done.

"He expressed his uncertain emotions to her. She was confused, and succumbed to the only emotion the Fae truly understand: anger. For being corrupted by humanity, for disobeying his Queen, and for presuming to move into a higher position at Court, he was banished to the realm of Earth.

"Now, Edimon's understanding of humans was limited to the Europeans, who at the time were actually some of the most backward people in the world. The Fae held sway over them only because no other civilisations believed in them. The Nevernever, at that time, only touched on Europe. Until Marco Polo set out, and started to spread the knowledge and fear of the Fae around the world, they couldn't touch the rest of humanity.

"Edimon had seen the changing tide, and through the Court, had tried to hold back humanity, to slow the spread of science and understanding, to keep his Queen powerful. It was for nought. With his banishment, a great awakening began. All Fae lost strength in the mortal realm, and the balance that he had always revered, between light and dark, nature and artifice, Summer and Winter, began to destabilise.

"Understanding that change was inevitable, Edimon tried to influence the policies of mortal rulers, in much the same way he had guided Titania all those years, but there were too many kingdoms, all far too short-sighted, and all acting in their own best interest, to control them all.

"He wandered for decades, from country to country, land to land, always with a similar name. He spoke every language fluently, of course. In England, he was Edward. In France, Edouard. In Prussia, Theodric. In Savoy, Edouardo. Since as a Fool he had been unable to do anything productive, he took other positions: soldier, doctor, butler, labourer, always trying to influence those around him, to temper enthusiasm with caution, anger with understanding. He was often dismissed as a stick-in-the-mud.

"Then, one day, after more than a century of watching people slip away from the old ways, and embrace science at the cost of nature, embrace war, but not each other, he found himself in a fit of depression. He considered throwing himself on a sword, or any pile of iron, just to release himself from the sadness and despair.

"It was in this state that he found himself wandering near Rome. Just walking down a road, in the evening. Having little need for sleep or mortal food, he rarely found himself indoors at mealtimes. Perhaps that's why he was so surprised to hear a scuffle ahead of him. Hurrying around the bend, he came upon a scene. Three men had accosted another, and were harming him.

"Edimon, never a lover of violence, startled them off. When he stooped to help the other man, he discovered he was a priest. His name was Father Giuseppe Franco. Edimon helped him back to the local parish, and discovered Franco had been on his way to deliver some food and coins to a couple of local poor families when he was mugged. Edimon was surprised when the young priest insisted on heading back out to attempt his deliveries again.

"Asking why he would risk himself again, the priest told him that he did not hold the men at fault; they were poor, too, and had needed the food and money as much as the people he had set out to see. It was human nature, Franco said: there is good, evil, happy, sad, rich, poor, and everything in between. Part of the Church's purpose was to maintain the balance; as much darkness as there was in the world, there must be an equally strong light.

"Recognising the same respect for balance that he had always known in the Court, Edimon accompanied Franco on his second trip. Not long after, he joined the Church, still as a servant. Wandering from place to place, for almost 60 years, he maintained his charade of humanity, joining and serving a parish for a time, helping as he could, then moving on before anyone could become too accustomed to his presence. In this way, he came to see he was actually making a difference in peoples' lives, actually guiding them towards understanding and happiness.

"Eventually, though, his travels brought him back near Rome, and naturally, he came upon Father Franco again, who was visiting his old parish; you see, he was now an archbishop, very old, yet still vigorous, and understood after one conversation with the oddly familiar man just who - and what - Edimon was. He insisted on dining with his old friend. At the meal, which the archbishop noted his old friend hardly touched, he told the Faerie that there could be a permanent place for him in the Church, as a living repository of knowledge, and managing one of the most important parts of the struggle against the darkness; the Knights of the Cross."

The old priest grabbed a bottle of water and drained it.

I leaned back in my chair and stared, uncertain what to think. The tale of Edimon provided a link between the Knights and the Fae, but there was just something about it that was… off. I couldn't put my finger on it, though.

Then Lash whispered something to me, and the whole thing clicked. The implication was huge, and it complicated things, immensely.

Forthill continued, "Over the next several centuries, the being who had once called himself Edimon took on his new role with relish. He learned all there was to know about the Denarians, the Knights, and the Swords. He maintained his appearance of humanity, and travelled from parish to parish, always serving as a humble priest, always protecting those who needed him.

"Meanwhile, the Church investigated mortal magics that would shelter him from the Fae, secretly, of course. And when Nicodemus destroyed the archives the Church held regarding himself and the Denarians, as he often did, it fell to Edimon to restore them, as best he could, though even his mind couldn't hold everything.

"Eventually, his travels took him to America, where one of the Swords seemed to have found permanent residence."

"Wait," Murphy said. "Are you saying Edimon is the head of your order?"

"In a way, Murph," I said, and I was breathless.

Frank met my eyes again, and I didn't look away.

"Took me a minute to figure out," I said, tapping my temple, "but Lash noticed. Remember that Edimon liked to play with his name. I'm not terribly good with Latin, but extend the syllables: Edi-mon. Not that far from _Edifice Mons_."

"What does that translate to?" she asked.

Still staring Forthill in the eye, I said, "Roughly, 'building on the mountain.'"

"Or," he said, "by a small stretch, 'fortification on the hill'."

"No wonder you didn't ask who the Fathers were."

Murph sagged back in shock, her mouth open, as she put it together.

"I assume," I said, "Father Franco made a huge impression. Big enough to borrow his name."

Murph leaned forward again. "_You're_ Edimon?"

"I haven't gone by that name in centuries, Karrin," Forthill said, "but yes. There's much left I want to do here, and much more I'm bound to do, but if it will aid you in your struggles against the Denarians, against the darkness, I will go with you."

*****

I shook my head, still not believing. "I take it," Forthill, or Edimon, or Edifice, or whatever his name was – Father, that seemed fitting - said, "that you've already found the Father of the Winter Lady?"

I nodded and pulled Bob out. I put him on the table. "It's alright, Bob. You have my permission to talk."

The orange lights flared up instantly. "Wow," the skull said. Forthill didn't flinch. "So that's why I took off."

"What do you mean?"

"Balance, Harry. I was maintaining the balance. If the Summer Father bolted, the Winter Father had to go, too."

Murphy grabbed a bottle of water and stood up, pacing.

I had another question I had to ask. And it was a painful one. Looking him right in the face, and willing to accept whatever I saw there, I asked, "Do you hate me, Father?"

"Oh, this is the awkward part," Bob said, a little too happily.

"Be quiet, Bob. Father?"

"You mean about Aurora?" He was quiet for a moment, staring at me. Then, slowly, he shook his head. "If I did… well, I'm sure you have some idea of what I could do to you. Oh, I took it hard, Harry, there's no denying that. But the real truth is, I knew when I left that there were going to be bad times ahead. And not just regarding the direction of mortals. I loved Titania, and I wanted to know Aurora. But I never had the chance.

"You see, Titania went through occasional fits of madness, usually several decades in coming." I filed _that_ little nugget away for later. "When I was there, in the Court, I could sense it coming many years off and either prevent it, or steer it in the right direction. But for the last few centuries… I feared it would only be a matter of time before she did something that got herself or our daughter hurt. Or killed.

"You did what you had to do, after trying not to. The same as any of the Knights would have. God help me, the same as I think _I _would have." He was welling up. Murph stopped pacing, and looked at him again.

I tripped over my words, the feelings of guilt I had been holding down for years suddenly rising to the surface. With my eyes cast down, I said, "I… I never got the chance to apologize to Titania. But, I'm sorry, Father."

He put a hand on my shoulder, waiting until I looked up, looked him in the eye again, with no fear of a soulgaze, of course. With a hint of a smile, he simply said, "I forgive you." It was enough.


	9. Chapter 9

"So now what?" Murphy asked me quietly.

I shrugged and looked over my shoulder, to where Bob and Forthill – or Father – were talking. "Summon Mab, I guess. This case is turning out to be a lot easier than I thought."

She snorted, which is cute coming from a button nose. "Which, knowing your luck, means it's actually anything but."

"True," I conceded.

"You really think Mab won't try to kill them?"

"Not sure. All I got her to say was that she didn't _want_ them for pain or death. Doesn't mean she won't let it happen."

"I've seen what happens when exes go looking for each other, Harry. Hell, I've lived it. It's almost never pretty. Is there anyway to keep them safe from her?"

"Guess I could summon her to a nearby location, get her to swear to their safety, then introduce them."

"Probably just piss her off."

"It's a risk, but I'm not delivering them to her without my lawyer present."

"Your lawyer?"

"Justin Case."

"That is the worst joke, ever." She shook her head. "Too bad you can't just build a bigger skull."

"Thanks, Murph. That's real helpful."

She rolled her eyes. "Not for you, stupid. Like Bob's skull. A big, magic-tight container."

"Yeah, but there aren't any - " I stopped, thinking furiously about an idea that was suddenly coming together in my mind.

"Harry? What?"

I started smiling, then I leaned down and kissed her right on the mouth. "Stars and stones, Karrin, you're a genius!"

She smiled up at me. "I know." Her cell phone rang. "Give me a sec." She fished it out and stepped away from me. "Murphy… I mean, hello?"

I turned away, a slight grimace forming at Murph's cop-speak, and watched Bob bounce on the table as the Father regaled him.

"What? Oh, okay. Yeah, I'll tell him. Sure." She came back. "That was Molly. She said you need to call McCoy. Now."

*****

When I opened the door to my apartment, the broom fell over. It was in the kitchen. "Darn it! Oh, Harry, there you are." I stepped inside to find her sitting by the fireplace, cross-legged.

My voice was subdued. "Hey, padawan. How goes it?"

"The stupid broom keeps falling down, and I'm getting a headache."

"Huh. Well, you got it to stand up, that's something."

"You were gone for a while. Where did you go, anyway?"

"That's a bit of a story by itself."

"You got my message?"

"Yeah. I called Ebenezar."

"What's going on?"

I stepped over to the easy chair near the fireplace and sank down. "The vampires," I said simply.

"Oh God. Did anyone - ?"

"Yeah." Molly crossed herself and hung her head. "Looks like about a dozen attacks, all over the world: Australia, Germany, Greece, Brazil, Egypt, South Africa, Chile, Japan, Russia, India and right here, in Washington and San Francisco. Reds, probably Jades, because no one seems to know what the hell happened. Very coordinated. More than 70 dead."

"That's awful."

"There have also been individual Wardens attacked, usually by a swarm. Fourteen are dead, and six more are injured. A member of the Fellowship of St. Giles was killed. Two Wardens tried to help him, but…"

"It's getting worse," she said. "The vampires, the Black Council…"

"The worst of it is the people who couldn't even defend themselves. About 30 low-level practitioners, almost as many mundanes."

"Normal people are getting hurt?" She sounded very uncomfortable, and her jaw was clenched; maybe she was working on her own rage.

"All the more reason to talk to Mab ASAP. I'm going to Call her."

"She has a phone number?"

"Molly, you really are adorable sometimes. No, she has to be summoned. How would you like to help?"

"Of course!" She jumped to her feet, smiling. The smile vanished instantly as she put a hand to her forehead. "Ow, headrush."

I put a hand on her shoulder and guided her over to the sofa. "Sit for a second." I turned and nudged open the hidden drawer in the endtable again, I pulling out a thin, long crystal.

"The shield maker?" she asked, squinting at me. "What do you need that for?"

"Plan B," I said, "since you can't make one yourself. We're working on that next, by the way." I handed it to her, then went to grab a couple items for Plan C.

*****

If the phrase 'uncharted island' conjures up an exotic, tropical picture in your head, you might be surprised to know there's at least one of them in North America. If the phrase makes you think of a spooky, dangerous place, where the natives are vicious and deadly, you might be surprised to know there's at least one of them in North America, too.

Near the southern tip of Lake Michigan, just an hour or so away from Chicago by boat, there is such an island. The reason it stays unfound is because… well, frankly, it wants to. How's that for spooky?

The island gives off a lot of energy; not the energy you could harness and sell for 6¢ a kilowatt-hour, but magic. It's the source of a leyline, one of the purest, most basic forms of magic in the mortal realm, and as such, one of the most disruptive. People sense it, on a subconscious level, and avoid it. Like so much else in life, it goes back to instinct.

I don't actually own a boat; my brother does. Thomas is… well, it's a long story. Suffice it to say, we're not as close as we used to be. I tried calling, I tried going to him, I tried giving him space, I even tried writing letters. Yeah, I still do that. No email, you know. But he and I have only spoken once since Something Very Bad happened. It wasn't a good conversation.

These days, Thomas is less about being nice and helping people, and more about being a vampire and eating them, one powerfully emotional, physical experience at a time.

However, even a vampire can own a boat. And even a vampire's wizard bother can have the spare key.

The _Water Beetle_ was parked – or moored, or whatever you call it – where it usually was. I led the way down the dock. "Harry," Murphy said from beside me, "this isn't a plan."

I'd told her what I wanted to do on the way back to my place. "Sure it is," I said. "It's almost exactly what I did last summer with the skinwalker."

"While counting on something you don't understand, and can't control."

I got to the boat, and turned to help the Father on board. "If I'm organising a meet between powerful beings, I want it to be on my turf. Or at least turf I can be aware of."

"And the island likes you?" the being formerly known as Forthill asked. He sounded sceptical.

"The island's _genius loci_, the spirit of the place… well, we have an understanding. It knows everything that happens on the island, and it can tell me. If Mab brings a horde with her, I'll know it."

Molly climbed aboard, toting a backpack full of items, and Mouse's lead. "It is an advantage," she said. The big dog jumped aboard himself. The boat only rocked a little.

Molly kept looking at the Father, not nervously, but like she had never seen him before. He politely didn't stare back. She'd taken the truth about him quite well, about the same way Murphy and I had. I was not looking forward to explaining this one to Michael, though.

"There's no questioning that. And even if things do go south… at least we're far away from any innocents."

Murphy nodded to herself. Protecting people, minimising damage, it all came naturally to her. "Alright," she said with a sigh, and turned to one of the mooring lines. I got the other one unhooked, and we both hopped on to the deck. Molly got the engine going.

"Hey, Harry?"

"Grasshopper?"

"Did you fill the gas tank?"

"No. But a half tank should be enough to get us out there and back."

"Well, I know, but, the tank is full."

I frowned. The only people who had keys for the boat were Thomas and myself. And I hadn't touched it in months. Murphy stepped up beside me. "So, Thomas is still taking it out?"

"I guess. Would've thought he'd moved up in the world by now. 50-foot yacht and all that. You know, use the family money on his dad's side."

"Maybe he keeps it around for sentimental reasons."

I smirked. I knew why she was saying that, of course; she knew how important Thomas was to me. As my brother, he was also my only living family. For an orphan, the importance of family is hard to overstate. "Maybe," I allowed. "Take us out, padawan."

Demonreach isn't actually the name of the island, which is technically nameless. It's the name I gave the _genius loci_ inhabiting the island. And no, I have no idea why I called it that. The name just sort of popped into my head at the end of the _sanctum invocation_ I performed there, calling forth the island's spirit and challenging it. Demonreach was a manifestation of the island's power, and the leyline beneath it, given awareness by some arcane means.

Which is just a long-winded way of saying the place is dangerous as hell and I don't understand it at all.

But, it does like me. Or at least has a grudging respect for me.

When I'm standing on the land of the island, I know everything there is to know about it. How many people are there, and where, how many hornets nests, and a good idea of how many hornets. Where the rough patches are, and the tree roots, the best paths and the fallen trees.

In short, on Demonreach, I see all, I know all, and I can cover my ass most effectively. The trip out to the island was interesting for how uninteresting it was; the sun was shining its way toward the horizon, it was cool without being cold, and the lake was calm as a 12-year-old on Ritalin. Molly handled the controls and I took the time to rest and go over the finer details of the plan with Murphy, Bob and the Father in the little cabin. There weren't many details to go over.

"She's right, Boss," Bob said, shaking a little and talking about Murph. His voice was a little higher than usual. "That's not much of a plan."

"I know, but it's what I got. If the vamps weren't putting so much pressure on us, I'd have more time to come up with something better, but as it is…" I shrugged. "People are dying."

The Father looked around at us, his eyes finally settling on mine. "My familiarity with the Winter Queen is not great, of course. But, I have faith, Harry."

"Thank you. At least someone does." I looked out over the water, at what had become near-darkness. _Lash? What say you?_

Her answer came at once. _You have come through worse, with less. I believe you will succeed. And if you don't… at least you tried._

I was touched. _Thank you. That wasn't exactly what I was expecting._

_I know. Some part of you thought I would tell you that failure is assured, and your plan is foolish, and the coin would grant you what you need. What can I truly say? I know you would not take it up, and I don't wish you to. If the whole Lasciel were to come to you now… I would be lost. I will give you whatever help I can_. She paused. _It is what friends do, is it not?_

I glanced at Murphy, who was checking three different handguns and a sword she'd once stolen from a vampire_. Yeah. It sure as hell is._

I wandered out on to the deck, and watched the sun slowly sinking in to the boat's wake. Chicago was largely lost to us now by distance and darkness.

The being I still thought of as a priest stepped up beside me.

"I have to admit that I'm a little nervous," he said over the engine.

"So am I. But I said I'd protect you. If you think the plan is bad, we can always cancel and try again in a few days, or weeks."

He shook his head. "And in that time, how many innocents die? No, even if it means my life, Mab must have what she wants."

I stared at him for a long time.

"Something wrong, Harry?"

"Yeah. I just realised you're a better person than most of the people I know."

He smiled back. "Understanding and forgiveness are an essential part of humanity, Harry. As fundamental as love and fear, hatred and passion."

"You don't embody all of those characteristics."

He shrugged. "Enough of the supernatural set do, I think."

"Harry!" Molly shouted down.

"Aye, Cap'n?" I called back.

"We're almost there!"

"Kill the engine, I'll be right up."

The island is surrounded by a reef, with only a few ways through. Even shallow-bottom boats have trouble getting over it. Quite a while ago, Thomas and I had come out here, done some exploring with very long sticks, and placed buoys to mark the safe way in.

I took the wheel while Molly stood beside me, watching every move I made. She stayed quiet. There was a time when she would have just started asking questions, or her attention would have wandered to something else, but she'd matured since then. She'd grown up, a bit. Hopefully, that was a good omen for what awaited her in a few weeks.

I slowly manoeuvred the Water Beetle through the narrow gaps in the reef, easily since there was still a little light left, and by the time I got it near the old dock, Murphy, Mouse and the Father were all on deck. The father jumped out and Murph tossed him a line, which he caught effortlessly and had tied in no time at all.

A few moments later, we were all on the dock, flashlights in hand, facing the crumbling remains of what had been, a century ago, a small canning town. The buildings were wooden, half-gone, and slowly being reclaimed by the flora and fauna. I led the way down the dock, and paused for half a second before stepping onto dry land.

The effect was immediate. It wasn't over-whelming. There was a odd sensation, almost nostalgia. The island and I greeted each other, without words, without actual thoughts. Just a gentle washing-over of feelings. And _knowledge_.

It was like I had a thousand sets of eyes, all looking at a different part of the island. I suddenly _knew_ where every animal was, and whether they were standing, sleeping, or running. I _knew_ where every wave lapping the shore was hitting, receding, or calm, and could almost feel the water moving against my own skin. I _knew_ the best path to the top of the hill at the centre of the island.

And I knew that there were no other human-shaped beings anywhere but at the dock. "Coast is clear," I said, and started tromping down what had once been a dirt lane, but was now just dirt.

The Father stepped on the land, and instantly staggered. "Oh, my," he muttered.

I twirled back, but Molly was at his side in an instant. "Father? Are you okay?"

He adjusted his glasses. "Just… just a little dizzy. There is power here. More than I've felt in a very long time. Leyline?" I nodded. "I'll be alright. Mab probably won't even be fazed."

"We'll find out soon."

I walked without a light, though the others had theirs on. I took them up the path, to an old stone stairway set into the hill, and we followed it up through the surrounding forest. At the peak, there is a large, flat clearing, grassy and open. To one side, the west, is the strangest architecture I've seen in a while.

A small cottage, made entirely of stone, with a wooden roof, stands next to a tower, made of the same stones. Crumbling and completely open on its north-eastern side, the tower appears to be a complete ruin. However, its construction is a little more remarkable.

A few months back, I witnessed a skinwalker, an ancient, evil shape-shifter, attempting to approach the tower. Every step the nasty beast took got a response from the stones of the tower themselves: glowing runes, which I couldn't identify, lit up like a coke fiend. I don't understand the exact power at work, but the result had been amazing: the skinwalker had been unable to move anywhere near the cottage. Come to think of it now, those runes might have been similar to the ones on Mab's athame.

Considering the power level of the old beast, I had a suspicion that Mab might suffer the same effects. I know, long-shot, since I don't actually understand the principles involved, and the island didn't see fit to explain, but I'm willing to try anything when it comes to covering my ass.

We stepped into the cottage, and I passed Bob over to Molly. "What's this?" she asked.

"The Winter Father's summer cottage."

"Huh?"

"Just keep it safe. Father, grab a seat. I'll try to get a fire going."

"Thank you," he said, "but I think I remember how to do that." He turned to the hearth and flicked his entire left arm, like Spider-Man shooting a web. There was a small whoosh of noise and heat, then the fire settled down. "Ow." He was working his hand and cradling his elbow. "That was like pulling a muscle. I'm a little out of practice."

"Still better than I can do," Molly murmured, awe-struck.

"Why don't you two sit down and swap ideas? Invisibly?" Molly nodded, took the Father's hand, and they vanished, perfectly. "Murph? Mouse? Why don't we go for a walk?"

They both followed me out into the clearing, Murphy's flashlight and Mouse's nose both flicking every which way. "It's alright, you two. There's nothing hostile here. Yet."

"I know, Harry, you'd tell me. I'm just getting a feel for the area. Lines of sight, cover… God I'm good at this." Her voice was melancholy, not boastful.

I took a deep breath, careful to not let it sound like a sigh. "There's nothing to be done?"

She kept looking around, turning in a slow, tight circle, and kept the light off her face. "Administrative appeal is automatic. Unfortunately, rejection of administrative appeal is also almost automatic."

She shook her head. I didn't see it, but a number of animals and birds around us did, and I caught their impressions in the back of my mind. It was like having night-vision. "It's done, Harry. I shot someone, and they happened to be related to someone who was rich and powerful." She finished her circle. "All things considered, they probably could have charged me with manslaughter. Probably would have made it stick, too."

"That's bullshit."

"That's politics." She was quiet for a time, and I let her be. Even Mouse was respectfully still. "It sucks. Being powerless."

"You're preaching to the choir. Wizards are usually never powerless. So, when something happens we can't control… well, it's scary and frustrating for us on a whole other level."

We were quiet for a moment, during which she hugged her jacket a little tighter. "This is a bad idea, isn't it?"

"Very likely. I should probably be waiting for McCoy. But he's busy planning a strike against the vampires. I do this now, maybe I can tell him where to hit for maximum effect."

She nodded. "Okay, then. You might as well get started."

I nodded, once, then walked to the centre of the clearing and planted my staff. I took several deep breaths, clearing my head. I closed my eyes, and listened to the wind in the trees, felt the air moving around me. One of Mab's title was the Queen of Air and Darkness, just as Titania would be the Queen of Land and Light. Focusing on a darkened sky would attune my thoughts and power to Mab all the more precisely.

After several minutes, I focussed my thoughts entirely on the Winter Queen; infusing my voice with my will, I called out into the night: "Queen of Winter, Queen of Air and Darkness, heed my Call! I have what you seek! And beseech you to come and fulfil our bargain!"

There was perfect silence. I stayed where I was, my right hand lifted palm up, a supplicating gesture, my head bowed. With my loci-awareness, I felt Murph holding perfectly still, Mouse right beside her.

The silence hung, and continued to hang. Finally, I opened my eyes. I looked around, sighed, and steeled myself to Call again. Just as I said, "Queen!" I sensed a new arrival in the island. One foot, two feet, three… and something cold. And close. I turned slowly, and looked right into Mab's eyes. Maeve was beside her, and Grimalkin was in her arms. I vaguely noticed Murphy and Mouse approaching.

"There is no need to shout, Wizard," Grimalkin said for Mab, "I am right here."


	10. Chapter 10

Murphy and Mouse moved to flank me. "Queen, Lady," I said, nodding. They wore the same clothing I'd seen on them the last time we'd spoken, and the athame was at Mab's good hip.

"You say you wish to fulfil mother's bargain," Maeve said, glancing over us, "and so quickly, but I see only your pet and your friend. Surely neither of them is Daddy?" She said it with just the wrong amount of suggestiveness, and just a little too much of a look at Murphy.

I shook my left sleeve, working my shield bracelet out. If there was one type of magic I'd gotten very good at besides locating spells, it was shields. Molly was still quite hopeless when it came to those. I quietly hoped I'd have a chance to help her improve.

"No. These are not the Fathers. They are nearby."

Mab made a very unhappy face. "You waste my time, wizard?"

I sensed Murph tense up beside me. Mouse lowered his head, but didn't make a sound. "No. I only seek assurance of their safety."

"I gave you that already."

"You gave me your promise, true. Then you come with another." I looked pointedly at Maeve.

The Lady dropped Grimalkin and pouted. "You don't trust me, Harry?"

"Don't take it personally. I don't trust any Sidhe as far as I can throw them."

"Wise," Mab's voice told me. And it _was_ Mab's voice. Cracked, unrefined, and closer to a whisper, but it came from her throat.

"Mother, you'll strain yourself," Maeve said, suddenly quite serious.

"I am the judge of my own strength," she whispered back, voice harsh. "Very well, wizard. You wish an assurance? I will not harm the Fathers, nor allow them to come to harm. That is, in fact, why I had them sought." She took a deep breath, shuddered, then leaned against Maeve.

"Mother, stop, please." Maeve sounded very young for a moment. Like any regular child, who was afraid for her parent.

Mab steadied herself, then straightened her back. Grimalkin again spoke for her: "Few see me at a moment of weakness and live to speak of it. I will take your promise of silence as payment for my promise of safety."

I was confused, but I nodded at once. "I swear it on my power. None will know this moment."

"Then bring them forth."

I turned to the cottage, where the small fire continued to burn, casting the only light on the hillside save for a quarter moon. "Molly! Bring them out!" I turned back and lowered my voice. "Just be a second."

Murph didn't turn to me, and didn't bother whispering. "Are you sure about this, Harry?"

"Sure as I can be."

A few seconds later, I saw Mab and Maeve's eyes looking around me. I didn't look back, and neither did Murph. We both watched their eyes track around beside Mouse. I glanced over. Molly stood in front of the Father, Bob's skull in her hand.

"Bob," I said, "you can talk."

The skull shook a little when the orange tea-lights lit up. "My Queen!" he said, and just a little nervously. I watched Maeve. One side of her mouth curled up. Her eyes were soft, not calculating. She almost looked _innocent_. Hell's bells, she was genuinely happy to see her Father.

Mab let out a sigh that sounded almost… relieved? She slowly limped forward, her hands out. Molly stood her ground, hand out in front of her, and to Bob's credit, he didn't shake. His eye lights receded, though, down to tiny points. Murphy had one hand on a gun in a shoulder rig, her eyes on Mab.

Mab took the skull up in both her hands. She smiled. "Beloved," she whispered herself.

The eye lights flared up. "My Queen! Please, I beg your forgiveness! I never wanted to - " But Mab hushed him. And she was smiling. What the hell?

Man, I thought _my_ family was screwed up.

"There is nothing to forgive, Bob, was it?" Murphy and I traded looks. This was not how we'd figured things would go. "Your flight was not your choice. You merely maintained the balance, as we ever have. I have missed you."

"And I, you, my Queen." Very slowly, Mab ran one finger down the bridge of the nose on the skull. Bob shivered. I hoped he shivered with cold. Knew he didn't.

Gross.

Maeve cleared her throat. She glanced at me, and that look was one I'd treasure for the rest of my life; she was uncomfortable. "Mother?"

Mab cradled Bob to her, then looked at the Summer Father. "Edimon," Grimalkin's voice said.

He'd been perfectly quiet up to that moment, not even betraying discomfort at Mab and Bob's reunion. Now, he bowed his head. "Queen of Winter. How may an old Fool serve you?"

"By returning with me to Court."

"The Winter Court?"

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

"For your own protection."

"Forgive me, but from what must I be protected?"

Mab took a deep breath. "From the Summer Queen herself. My sister Queen wishes you dead."

"Whoa, wait a second," I said. "How is that balanced? Titania wants to kill him, but you're okay with Bob? And why now, after 600 years?"

Mab turned and looked at me, regally. "The time has come to fulfil our bargain. All I know of the Black Council. To begin, however, I answer your newest questions. My sister Queen wishes to sacrifice the Father of her daughter, in order to resurrect her."

"What? That's impossible," I said. "I mean, no offence, but Fae have no souls. Once you're dead, isn't that it?"

"Normally, Boss," Bob said from Mab's hands, his voice dreamy. "But the Queens are different. They're special."

Mab smiled down at him. "Correct. It is the nature of the Mantles themselves to hold a piece of their bearers."

"Wait," I said, as it tumbled together in my head. I think Lash might have helped straighten it out, but I wasn't paying attention. "You're saying there's a part of Aurora inside Lily, right now?"

"An echo of her essence, yes. Combined with the blood of her Father, the previous Summer Lady would live again."

Anger welled up. "Titania would have to kill Forthill and Lily to do that."

"Yes."

"That's insane."

"Titania is not mad. But she has not been herself for two millennia."

"That's about right," the Fool said.

"What's right?"

"That's when her bouts began."

"Her – you mean when she started having her 'fits of madness'? The ones you had to guide her through?"

"Yes."

"'Twas not madness," Mab interrupted, "though I thought so myself, for a time. She was too deliberate in her actions." She turned to Maeve, and took her hand. "Taking a mate, birthing a daughter, forcing me to do the same." She looked into Maeve's face. "I do not regret it for a moment, of course. But she has been trying to disrupt the balance between us for centuries. The balance has only been maintained because I counter her. But I cannot keep up forever. I cannot foresee everything she will do."

"Something's happened. Something you can't counter. What is it?"

Mab hesitated. Then she drew herself up. "One of my courtiers was… changed."

"Changed? Changed how?"

"In her mind. Perhaps possessed, perhaps only convinced, but her mind was broken. I was forced to imprison her."

"Leah? You're taking about my godmother? Titania broke my godmother's mind? That's why you froze her in ice?"

"Yes." Her finger dropped to the hilt on her belt. "This was corrupted. A powerful enchantment, but only strong enough to affect one. I removed it, but I was too late to prevent its effects. That is part of why I took it from her."

"Part, but not all."

"I must take the long-term view, wizard. Even without the damage it wrought to the Leanansidhe's mind, her possession of such a powerful weapon was a direct challenge to me. Balance must be maintained, both within and without."

I shook my head. _Lash, I hope you're catching all this_.

Then she was standing beside me, staring at Mab. _Of course. Keep asking your questions Harry. You have many._

"Alright. What happened 2000 years ago?"

Again, Mab hesitated. "The demons," she said.

"Which demons?"

The Father stepped in. "There were many on Earth at that time. It's one of the reasons Christ was sent; to cast them out. Little of that made it into the Bible, of course. The Church didn't want to frighten everybody."

"Yes. But I believe the tale is still told of the strongest one?"

The Father's features creased, then his eyes widened with understanding. "Of course."

I raised my hand. "Sorry, I didn't go to Catholic school."

"Of course, Harry. Though I think you've heard the tale. Jesus was in a small town near the sea, when he was approached by a man behaving erratically; He was possessed by a demon. Jesus cast the demon out, but before doing so, he demanded the demon's name. Or perhaps its Name, to be more accurate. The response is quite famous."

From behind me, Murphy spoke up, though Lash whispered it to me at the same moment: "Our name is Legion," she said, "for we are many."

"Just so."

I shook my head again. "You're saying Titania was possessed by Legion?"

Mab inclined her head. "Yes, in a way. The Legion was the name they took themselves, but there were only five of them, each with their own name."

"Okay, I'll bite. What were their names?"

She smiled, and there was nothing nice about it. "He Who Walks Below, He Who Walks Above, He Who Walks Before, He Who Walks Within, and He Who Walks Behind."

I froze. I couldn't help it. My voice was suddenly quite thready. "There are _five_ of them?"

She nodded. "Five aspects of one being."

Murphy touched my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Molly stepped forward. "Harry, didn't you fight one of them? One of the Walkers?"

I swallowed. It took some effort, since my throat was dry. I'd always thought there were two, or maybe three Walkers. "Yeah. When I was sixteen."

Murphy raised her eyebrows. "You defeated something that knocked around the Summer Queen? When you were a teenager?"

"I… I think so. I don't actually remember the fight. Just being afraid, then getting angry. Justin DuMorne, my first teacher, he managed to summon He Who Walks Behind, and set him after me."

"This was after he tried to enthral you, right?" Molly asked. "You and Elaine?"

"Yeah. I escaped, barely. After the bit with the Walker, I went back to Justin's place, to rescue Elaine. The house burned down."

"The Christ did indeed banish the Walkers to the outer realms," Mab resumed, "but the damage had been done. The Legion was residing in a mortal then because my sister Queen was able to cast most of them out. But one of them was left behind."

"Let me guess," I said, strength returning. "He Who Walks Within?"

"Yes. Though the weakest of the Legion, he is the most insidious. The connection between the five has never been undone, or disrupted. When the Christ cast them out, they were banished to the Outside, as one."

"Exorcising Legion freed Titania?"

"Yes, but as I say, the damage was done, to her mind. When the fallen Warden returned them, I feared what would happen… but you cast them back out." She raised an eyebrow. "It did not go unnoticed."

"Um, so, would the return of the Walkers be a bad thing for her, then?"

"She was tainted by them already. Their return would be disastrous, and herald the end of Titania's sanity."

"Huh. I was afraid you'd say that."

Mab and Maeve's eye both widened. Grimalkin jumped out in front of me. Mouse let out a short, low growl, which the interpreter ignored. "What has happened?"

"The White King," I said.

"Oh, God," Murphy cursed.

"The vampire?" the Father asked. "The head of the White Court?"

I nodded. "I knew the Black Council had vampires in its corner… damn it. It was about five years ago. The White King summoned He Who Walks Behind to power an entropy curse. But the ritual was… uh, disrupted, when the sacrifice escaped." In truth, Lord Raith had been trying to sacrifice my brother, and his son, Thomas. Murphy had been there, and almost been broken by Raith before Thomas' sister Lara had stepped up and broken him.

"Then the White King was a fool," Maeve said.

"I think he meant for the Walker to escape, just not quite the way it happened."

"It is as you say," Mab said, "I am sure. You are correct, wizard, the Kings of the three full vampire courts are members of the Circle, as is the last of the Black Court."

"The Circle," I mumbled. "Right. I heard Cowl say that, once."

"Cowl?"

"The necromancer."

"Ah, yes. He who hides behind death. He and his apprentice are of the Circle."

"Who else? Who else is involved?"

"The attackers, the Old Ones who breached Arctis Tor."

"The Denarians. How many of them were there? Do you know which ones were there?"

"There were four," she said. "I know not their names, but I saw their sigils." She put a hand out and traced four seemingly random designs in the air, leaving cold, burning light in the wake of her finger, which faded slowly.

_Lash?_

_Imariel, who is hosted by Tessa, Finiel, by Deirdre, Thorned Namshiel, and Prusiel._

_Thanks._

I was a little afraid to ask my next question. "What about humans?" I asked. "Are any members of the White Council part of the Circle?"

I was hoping she'd say no. Really, really hoping. Instead, she chilled my blood, but not with magic: "At least three, though I know not their faces."

Before I could ask another question, like whether that included Peabody or not, Demonreach told me something. I turned my head at the same moment Mouse, Maeve and Mab turned to look the same way.

"The power of Summer draws near," Maeve said.

I did a quick mental check. "There are four – no, eight, no, wait… 15. There are fifteen four-legged creatures emerging onto the island from the Nevernever." I turned to the direction they were coming from – the same path we'd come up earlier tonight. "Oh, boy." Lash vanished.

My hand tightened on my staff and Murphy finally drew a gun, complete with flashlight attachment on the barrel. Then she drew another one. "Dual-wielding, huh?" I whispered. "You have got to be the most awesome chick I've ever known."

"Shut-up, Harry," she said with a smile.

"They are centaurs," Mab whispered. "They have come for Edimon." And boy were they coming. They'd arrived near the shore, but I could feel they were already halfway up the hill.

"What? Why would they come now?"

"Something has changed."

"I know," the Father said from behind us. "The concealment magic the Church laid on me was contingent upon my never wilfully revealing myself. Now that I have, it's gone."

"Ah, crap." I said, guilt crashing down on me. "This is my fault."

"No, it's mine. I think it best I go with the Winter Queen, don't you?"

I wanted to say no, I really did. But the centaurs' hoofs were now almost to the top of the hill. "Yeah. Go, Father."

Mouse let out a thunderous growl. "I know, buddy. Molly, ready on Plan B. Murph, get ready on Plan C."

"Are you sure?" she asked, but she was already putting one handgun away reaching under her other shoulder.

"Sure as I can be." I turned back to the Sidhe. Edimon was standing next to Maeve. "I know the Queens are unable to harm members of the other Court unless attacked, so my guess is you're bugging out."

"Good luck, Harry," the Father said. Then Maeve, smiling, winked at me and touched his shoulder. They faded into shadow and were gone.

"Fare thee well, wizard," Mab said.

"Yeah, seeya around, Boss!"

"Wait, Bob - ?"

Then Mab, too, was gone. And she'd taken Bob.

There was no time to think about that, though. The centaurs had arrived. They were freaking huge. Ever seen a full-size draught horse? I mean a big ol' Belgian or Shire horse? Good. Now increase that about 15 percent and swap the neck and head for an ugly man's torso and face, give it a spear or a bow the size of my body, and you know what we were about to go up against.

"Kill the mortals!" the first one shouted, and the last little vestige of hope I'd had that we might talk our way out of this vanished.

"Murph, now!" She tossed a small wooden box straight at the on-coming stampede, and threw herself backwards at the same time. I caught her, and Molly triggered the shield crystal she was holding.

I felt the shield spring up, a perfect sphere of energy, solid as steel. Plan B was a go.

A hundred things could've gone wrong with Plan C. The magical construct inside the box might have been tuned incorrectly, the wood itself might have been cut the wrong way. I'd been in a rush when making it, just trying to get it finished, to prove to myself it could be done. Hell, it might have gone stale; I hadn't touched it since before my little foray to the past.

In short, nothing might have happened.

The box exploded.

It was great.

Nine of the centaurs fell, paralysed. The rest scattered.

"Son of a bitch, it worked!" I shouted.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Molly said from behind me. The crystal in her hand shook, flickered, and cracked. The shield instantly fell, and she dropped the crystal.

"What was that thing?" Murphy asked, guns already out and tracking a still-moving target.

I brought my staff up and willed a little energy into my bracelet, priming it. "Anti-magical hand grenade," I said. "Got the idea from the landmine in Colorado. Was hoping the shield would last a little longer, though. Molly, vanish!"

She did, and Demonreach felt her throw herself to the ground, too. Smart kid. A spear roughly the size as her body flew through the space she'd been occupying. I twisted, and hoped Demonreach could keep me in tune with the movements of my enemies.

Lifting my staff and drawing in my will, I shouted, "_Forzare_!" just ahead of where the centaur was. The lance of force knocked him off his stride, but the blast wasn't as strong as it was supposed to be. I looked over at the box. Something inside it was still glowing. Great.

"We have to go!" I shouted. I turned just in time to be blinded by muzzle flashes. Murph had taken her time lining up her shots, but she felled two centaurs at once. The dropped to the ground in agony, and the entry wound immediately began to sizzle. Murph liked to use bullets with low velocity and soft tips when fighting non-human opponents. The iron in her bullets would likely burn right through the centaurs and out to the ground. If they survived, they'd take years to recover.

"What?"

"The anti-magic bomb is still working. I'm starting to feel it!" And I was getting dizzy. Very bad sign. "Molly!"

She flickered back into sight, a little wobbly on her feet. Murphy got under my left arm and mouse helped Molly stand. If it came down to it, she probably could ride him. Murph helped me pick my way among the fallen centaurs, but there were still 4 of them out there, dodging into shadows and among trees. Like Molly and I, their movements were hampered and uncertain.

Mentally, I was fine, but I couldn't get any focus on my magic. The landmine we'd come across had acted like a paralytic and running water at once: I hadn't been able to move, and drawing in magic, focussing it into a spell, had been almost impossible. The grenade had much the same effect, but I'd thought it would be instant, not continuous.

There I go, exceeding my own expectations again.

I felt two centaurs on either side of us as we started down the hillside. They were moving cautiously. Murph had one gun out, tracking back and forth. "Harry, where are they?"

"Mmm," I said. My words wouldn't come together. Once we got to the dock, the effects would ground out, and Molly and I would be fine. Getting there would be an adventure, though.

"Shit," she said. Murph has a natural ability to analyze a situation and sum it up in one word. Must be that cop training.

I felt two centaurs coming closer. The pressure they put on their feet told me they were likely still armed, holding weapons off to the sides of their bodies; spears, then.

I couldn't get my concentration together to form a spell, or even to charge my shield bracelet. I was in a total brain fog.

Then I heard Lash talking through the haze, her voice struggling, but very fast. Or was everything else just really slow now? _Harry, I can only help a little; your inability to concentrate is mine, too._

_Right, right. We share the neurons._

_You cannot draw in magic for defence._

_I guess not. Can't even form the words._

_You can cast without words._

_Not with any degree of, um, control._

_Can you draw on Soulfire?_

_The trip through time kind of burned it out. When I asked Bob, he said to wait… um, a week or two? Or something?_

_Then draw on the Hellfire._

That seemed like a good idea. Everything went back to normal speed. I pulled the mental trigger that would allow me to channel the Hellfire Lash had… and the pain was remarkable.

I closed my eyes, groaning, and nearly fell over. If Murphy hadn't been holding me up already, I would have pitched right down the hillside. She whispered my name.

Demonreach, it seemed, did not much care for Hellfire. I got the impression of the island's genius, which I had once seen as an enormous, dark, hulking, limping creature with a hidden face and glowing eyes, frowning at me. No, I don't know how it was frowning when I couldn't see its mouth, but it's like being in a dream where you know what city you're in without seeing a sign.

So, I couldn't draw in normal magic; couldn't tap the Soulfire without killing myself; couldn't touch the Hellfire without pissing off my most powerful ally; the centaurs were about to strike; and I couldn't warn Murphy because my jaw didn't want to work. It was, as they say, quite the pickle. And my brain fog seemed to be getting thicker.

_There is one other source of power!_ Lash shouted at me.

From above, I sensed movement, or Demonreach did. It wasn't birds. _Oh, I hate sylphs! Wait, what power?_

_The island itself – the leyline, Harry._

_The Gatekeeper warned me never to tap it_, I said. Then I giggled. _Hee-hee. Tap it._

Lash was a fair bit more serious than I was. _You will all die if you do not!_

Hearing that, I glanced down at Murphy. She was still holding me up, and still holding out a handgun. She was trying to push me back. She was looking up, so she must have heard the sylphs coming… she's always trying to help. Help me, help others. Funny, I never really noticed before, but she rarely tries to help herself. Always taking responsibility, never praise.

I know how that feels. She's always looking after everyone, and after everything that's happened to her in the last few days… No. Son of a bitch. She wants to die the way she lived. Well, no. She is _not_ dying for me. Not a chance in hell.

I felt the centaurs shift their weight; they were throwing their weapons. I felt the air compress and shift around the trees and against the ground; the sylphs were diving. I felt Mouse trying to push Molly back, and I felt Karrin stepping in front of me.

I felt my staff, still loosely held in my right hand. There was a moment of clarity. I tightened my fist and brought the staff up, sending images of what I needed to Demonreach. I pictured a glowing ribbon of energy, whipping around the island, and flowing into me. Then, with a shout, I closed my eyes and drove my staff down.

The runes along my staff flared up in a golden-green light. I had no idea it would be so _easy_.

The brain fog cleared instantly, just burned off, and nothing gradual about it. My thoughts, my sensations, were crystal clear. I could see in perfect darkness, and I knew everything, all at once, no need to ask. I felt the air, the ground, the water, the stones and the plants. I saw through the eyes of every animal, and felt the movement of every leaf, every blade of grass

And the _strength_. I _was_ the island. I was ancient and eternal, and nothing was going to outlast me… nothing was going to _end_ me. Leaving my staff planted in the ground, I pulled Murph back and stepped forward with one hand. With the other, I swatted the flies.

The wind answered my call, and as the spears and sylphs streaked towards us, it caught them and cast them down. The whooshing sound was musical to me, like a familiar song I hadn't heard in years. I threw a backhand gesture at one of the centaurs, and watched as the wind and ground cooperated to toss it up and back, back, into a tree.

So effortless. So simple.

I called the wind again, and the sylphs, now trying to escape, were cast into the air. Some of them vaporized and drifted away, but a few were thrown in to the lake.

A centaur to my left tried to charge. With a glance, a sent a tree falling on top of him, breaking his back.

The two remaining centaurs turned and ran. I opened a chasm beneath their feet with a thought. I thought to bring the land down on them, to crush them there.

"Harry!"

My focus snapped back to my own. "Murph? What the - ?" I stumbled, and she caught me. I was drained, but worse, I was so… small. I looked down at my hands. They were so soft, so useless.

"Hey!" Murphy was in my face, holding it between her hands. "Harry, what the hell happened?"

"I think," I said, the brain fog growing back, "I just found out what a heroin addict feels like. We need to get out of here. Now."

She nodded, not understanding, but trusting me. Between her and Mouse, they got Molly and me back to the boat. It was slow going, but no one and nothing else bothered us. I faded out about the time she dropped me in the bunk on the boat.

*****

I woke up and we were at the dock, drifting gently. The sun was up, but just barely. Molly was asleep across the cabin in the other bunk. Mouse lay at the door, one eyes open. I smiled at him. He snuffed and closed his eye. I turned my head the other way and found Murph lying there, her head on my shoulder. She started.

"Morning," I whispered.

"Don't get any ideas," she said, eyes still closed. "I just couldn't sleep on the floor."

"No ma'am, no ideas here. Above my pay grade."

"Good."

We were quiet a moment. I figured the time had come for me to ask her something. "Listen, Karrin. You're really good at watching my back."

Now her eyes opened, and she was serious in a second. "What are saying, Dresden?"

"My job's not getting any easier. How… uh, this is weird. How would you like to work with me? You know, as a partner."

She gave me a sad smile. Then she sat up, and dug around in a pocket. She pulled out something I couldn't see. "Story of our lives, isn't it, Harry?"

"What?"

She turned and handed me a business card. It said 'Vincent Graver, P.I.' and listed a couple phone numbers and an address. I had the same card in one of my pockets. I flipped it over, and in pen, Vince had written 'Monday, 8 a.m.'

"I already have a job."

I crumpled the card in my hand, but I couldn't help but smile a little. I was happy for her. "The son of a bitch takes everything from me," I half-growled.

She glanced at my apprentice. "You do keep letting him have things."

I snorted. "I have a phone call to make."

"I'll keep an eye on Molly."

I worked my way quietly over to the door, Mouse getting up and waiting for me. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened out there? They had us dead to rights, and you woke up. What did you do?"

I looked out over the water, then back at Murph. "Something I shouldn't have."


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

The last three and a half weeks have sucked. I talked to McCoy, who was equal parts intrigued by the news that Titania is being controlled by the Walkers, and devastated to know we have more traitors on the White Council. I told him everything except about the leyline, and we hung up. Right after, I called my answering service. Not surprisingly, I got my call-up notice from the Wardens.

Warden Steiger, who is actually a pretty smart guy, planned a few raids of his own against the vampires. The White Council knew where a few Red Court strongholds were, and I was attached to several raids just in case there were Jades nearby. Twice, I had to protect Wardens who forgot what they were doing. Just twice, but I was glad I was there both times. I called in each night, and gave Molly a lesson to work on and listened to her questions. Murph checked on her for me.

Murphy herself was doing alright. Chasing down cheating husbands wasn't as exciting as chasing down trolls, but it was honest work.

I got in late on my birthday, about 2 in the afternoon. The last raid had taken longer than expected, and I was tired. But I was ready to walk Molly to Scotland. Don't roll your eyes. We wizards use shortcuts.

I opened my door and stepped inside. The fire was going, but low. Mouse poked his head up, and Mister, my enormous tabby, hit me with his head before bounding outside. "Hey, Mouse. Where's Molly?"

He looked at the endtable.

I stepped over to it, where, on top of a small pile of mail (mostly bills) there was a hand-written note.

_Harry;_

_Sorry, man, but I couldn't wait any longer._

_Orders straight from Ancient Mai._

_See you soon, I hope._

_Carlos_

"Crap. Well, at least she's with Ramirez. And as of this moment, yours truly is no longer under the Doom of Damocles. You need a trip out back?"

I spent the rest of the day waiting by the phone. There wasn't much else I could do. By the time I got to Scotland, the exam would be over, anyway. So, I went through the mail. Bill, bill, bill, cheque, bill… postcard?

The card's picture was a beautiful shot of Cartagena at sunset. I flipped it over.

_We need to talk._

_I'll be in town Nov. 3._

_ T_

"Stars and stones," I mumbled. "Thomas?"

The phone rang. I picked it up halfway through the second ring. "Dresden."

"Harry?" Ana said with a burst of static.

"Ana, yes! How'd it go?" She paused just long enough to let me figure it out myself. "Ana? Ana, don't tell me…"

"I'm sorry, Harry." She was breathless. "She failed."

The implications hit me like a brick. "No. No, Ana, I want to appeal this! I have to appeal this!"

"Harry, please, she's gone!"

"What?!" I was on my feet. "You executed her with me even being there?!"

"No, Harry, please, she's alive!" She had to shout over the static.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Harry, she's alive… but she's gone. She escaped."

"Escaped?" I sagged back to the couch. "How?

"Those veils of hers," she said, and there was almost respect in her voice. As soon as the result was read out, everything went black. She veiled everything. The entire room. Everyone was blinded. It took Ancient Mai almost two minutes to undo. By then, she was gone. One of the sentries reported blacking out a few minutes ago. She escaped into Winter."


End file.
